Alistair and his Warden
by shynerdylady
Summary: Fem!Cousland and Alistair's journey to quell the Blight and defend the land against a tyrant. A very sweet relationship between the two, from beginning to end. I hope. *working hard to keep plot going!*
1. Chapter 1

Emmalene Cousland scouted ahead of the group for a campsite, looking to the west and blinking in the light of the setting sun. The Imperial Highway was hard-traveled, but with the Blight and its Darkspawn, the highway became quite the trial of tribulations. With that, traveling at night was far more treacherous than usual.****

She stopped and pulled her map out of her pack. They had left The Circle Tower two weeks prior. She checked the landmarks she had marked on their way to Redcliffe, and placed them at the southeast edge of Lake Calenhad. From there, she surmised they would be able to cut through the woods and meet the West Road only hours away from Redcliffe.****

The sight of the lake on the map tugged at her desire for a wash. She walked to the edge of the road, forging her way into the roughage and coming across a small clearing. It was big enough for the five of them to take turns getting some sleep. She knew the others must be tired. She was close to exhaustion herself.****

She emerged from the brush to find the others were close to catching up to her. "We'll make camp here," she looked to Alistair, then the others, "it'll be dark soon."****

"Alright," Alistair nodded as Emma folded up the map and stuffed it back into her pack. He watched as Emma passed him to claim her spot for the night.****

She pulled her pack from her shoulders and let it fall on the ground at her feet. She then unhooked her scabbard, great-ax secured inside, and rested it next to her pack. Her arms lifted up in a stretch as she yawned. Alistair, almost reflexively, continued to gaze on at Emma. Arms still held upward, Emma leaned to each side, favoring her left side slightly as she stretched. She leaned back to crack her back before letting her arms fall to her sides with a sigh. He watched as she bent over and began untying her bedroll from her pack.****

"Something interesting, Alistair?" Wynne startled him with her sudden question.****

**"**Uhh, no?" His face reddened at being caught. He turned on Wynne and went to find a spot of his own in camp.****

"Hm. I'm sure," Wynne smiled to herself. Her eyes lifted to Emma as she walked to the young woman.****

Catching sight of Wynne heading her way, she stopped what she was doing to stand and greet her. "Hi Wynne."****

"Hello Emma," Wynne returned her smile, "how is the wound healing?"****

**"**Oh it's much better." Emma began to unbuckle her breast plate.****

**"**I gave you the salve, yes?" the elder woman asked of the medicine she had given Emma.****

**"**Mm-hmm. Once a day, right?" Emma pulled her arms from her armor and set it down next to her feet. "Maker's breath that plate is heavy," she breathed as she pulled up her shirt and chain-mail to show Wynne the wound. It was now a deep, purple scar, having started out as a gaping, bloody cavern in her side.****

**"**You're right," Wynne gave a pleased smile, "it's healing well, and quickly," she leaned in closer to get a better look at it.****

Alistair had periodically glanced over in Emma and Wynne's direction after finding a spot to lay his bedroll down. He'd caught sight of Emma's exposed stomach and found his eyes frozen on her. The skin looked pale and fragile, soft to the touch. His thoughts wandered as he looked on at her.****

"Alistair?" Leliana's voice seemed to appear out of thin air.****

Torn from thought Alistair blinked. His eyes then met Leliana's, and they told him he had without a doubt been caught oogling. "Um, yes, Leliana?" he tried to play it off.****

She wasn't fooled. "If you're not careful she'll notice you gawking, you know."****

**"**Gawking? I wasn't gawking. I... Wynne was checking on her and I-"****

"I'm not dense, Alistair. I see it, in your eyes, every time you look at her," she placed a gentle hand on his arm.****

Realizing how obvious he was set him at unease. "I didn't realize I'd been staring. I was just, looking on as a friend, to see if she was alright," he concluded. Not very convincingly, but concluded none-the-less.****

Leliana could see he wasn't ready to admit or talk about his feelings. She retracted her hand and nodded. "Alright." With that, she turned and left.****

He was immediately racked with guilt at lying to Leliana. But he didn't want to admit his feelings. He was sure it would cause trouble and unrest amongst his companions. Honestly, he worried Emma would find out, and he'd be the fool.****

Despite knowing he'd been caught by both Wynne and Leliana, he looked over again.****

"Thank you, Wynne. You did a great job," Emma smiled as she let her shirt and chain-mail fall.****

"Tis the least I can do. I am glad you are feeling better."****

"Do you need help with your tent?"****

"No, I-" ****

"Please," Emma interjected, "it's the least I can do," she held out her hand to take Wynne's pack.****

Wynne handed Emma her pack and watched as the Grey Warden scouted the clearing for a proper place to pitch the mage's tent. Emma found a level-area under one of the larger trees surrounding the clearing. There were a few lower-hanging branches that would suffice for tying up the tent.****

"Here alright?" she asked back to Wynne.****

She nodded, "Thank you Emma. I'll get some wood and start a fire for dinner."****

"Alright." Emma looked over to Alistair as Wynne departed. Emma hadn't spoken to Alistair much that day. She decided to ask him for assistance with Wynne's tent. The tent wasn't difficult to set up, but it was an excuse to see how he was doing.****

He saw her coming and immediately busied himself with his pack. He hoped she didn't notice his previous looks at her. "Hey," Emma gave his shoulder a friendly nudge with her elbow.****

He did his best to look surprised to see her, "Oh, hey Emma."****

"Would you mind helping me get Wynne's tent set up?"****

Emma's smile made him smile. "Yeah, of course." He dropped his pack and followed Emma over to the spot she'd picked out for Wynne. He wanted to initiate a conversation, but was reluctant to talk to her at all after being called out by Wynne and Leliana.****

"How're you today?" she asked, pulling Alistair from his frantic thoughts, "you've been pretty quiet today."****

He met her eyes as she pulled Wynne's canvas and rope to hang it on out of the pack. "I'm fine. A little tired," he shrugged as he chuckled lightly, "but we're all tired, yeah?"****

**"**True," she nodded, tossing him the other end of the rope, "well in any case, if you need to talk, you can always talk to me, Alistair."****

He smiled. "I know."****

They stretched the rope for Wynne's tent out between them as Emma spoke, "Wynne said my wound was healing up pretty good, thank the Maker. It was killing me."****

"Good. It was pretty bad. Is it closed at least?" Even though he'd been staring intently at her and Wynne earlier, he couldn't see the wound in detail then.****

**"**Yes. It's strange, to be healed by magic. I've never had it done before," she disclosed to him.****

"You've never been healed by magic?" Alistair was surprised. ****

"No. Have you?"****

**"**Heh, yeah. Loads of times," he chuckled. "I've broken my left arm... three times?" his eyes lifted as he contemplated the number, "maybe four..."****

Emma's jaw dropped. "Three? By the Maker, what did you do?"****

Alistair leaned his back against the tree he had tied his end of the rope to and counted each arm break on his fingers. "First time I fell out of a tree as a boy. Second time I fell down the side of a steep cliff. And... yeah, it was four. I broke it twice in Templar training," he nodded, proud at remembering them all. He noticed her eyes were wide and her mouth was slightly agape. "Is... that bad?" he asked at her expression.****

**"**Well, yes!" she laughed. "Who breaks their arm four times? I've broken one rib, and that was six weeks ago!" she referred to the healing wound at her side.****

**"**You've never broken a bone before then?"****

She shook her head. A sly smile crept across her face as she placed her hands on her hips and faced him. "I am quite graceful in combat, actually," she spoke proudly.****

**"**Ahh yes, hence the gaping hole in your torso," he mocked her with an evil grin.****

"Aw. That was low," she frowned.****

"Hey, you're the one that got lightning-ed, not me," he raised his hands in defense as he went to grab the tent canvas. She scowled, then eyed a stick next to her foot. With a small smirk she bent down, grabbed the stick and threw it at him. It missed his head, bouncing instead off of his pauldron. "HA! Deflected!" he raised an arm in triumph. He chuckled at the disappointment on her face. "Aw. Your aim will improve over time, don't worry over it."****

She couldn't hold back a laugh, "you're such a jerk."****

Wynne had been watching from afar. She sighed to herself at the happiness their flirtations brought them. Their obvious like of one another made her wonder at the consequences a relationship between the two could bring. For their sakes and the unknown darkness that awaited them, she hoped it was nothing more.****

Alistair and Emma had the weight of the world on their shoulders, the Blight the main source of that weight. Emma was a junior Grey Warden, a new recruit. Alistair was also a junior Grey Warden, Emma's senior by 6 months. They were still very young, Alistair 21 years old and Emma 20. Emma was still experiencing the major side effects of the Joining, the ritual all Grey Warden's endured to sense the Darkspawn. Her new-found mental awareness was nauseating, and the nightmares were mortifying-ly horrid. The only seemingly good thing derived from the Joining was the appetite increase. Every meal was as if she hadn't eaten in weeks. Between her and Alistair, it was a wonder that there was ever any food left for the others.****

Wynne smiled to herself at her last thought. She knelt in front of a small pit she had dug for a fire. ****

Despite their current situation, it made Wynne glad to know their spirits were strong and hopeful. They were the last surviving Grey Wardens in all of Ferelden. All the others, their mentor Duncan included, had perished at the Battle of Ostagar.****

Alistair was a great warrior and strong of heart, but was, by choice unknown to everyone, weak in leadership skills. He did all he could to have Emma be the leader of the group. Emma was strong. She possessed a strength many would not expect of a woman. Wynne hated to admit it herself, but she, too, never thought a woman could possess such ferocity and courage as Emma did. Young and fearless. Ignorance did not present itself as an issue for Emma. She had the tenacity to think through every scenario, and never let pride interfere in her decisions.****

Wynne's eyes wandered back to Emma and Alistair. Emma's hand covered her mouth as she laughed at something Alistair had said. He couldn't have looked prouder at his success in making her laugh. Their relaxed stances were an obvious sign of how comfortable they were with one another. They definitely trusted each other. A moment like the one they were sharing then was rare, especially in the time of a Blight.****

Wynne didn't want to hinder the feelings they may have begun to develop for one another, but there were bigger things in the world coming to a head. The two of them were Ferelden's only hope in defeating the Blight, and any complications that might hinder that goal should be avoided. The Grey Warden's paid greatly in their sacrifice to the people and the land. A life for a life, Wynne solemnly concluded.****

She decided she would talk to Emma after dinner. It was for her own good, Wynne tried to reassure herself. She held her hands over the wood she had collected and ignited it with her magic. It would save them an inevitable hurt down the line, she hoped silently.****

"This looks good, yeah?" Emma asked Alistair as she pinned down the last corner of Wynne's tent.****

He nodded as he wiped his palms on the tops of his thighs, "yup. Nice and cozy."****

"Do you need help with yours?" she offered.****

"Nah. Go set up your own tent," he playfully waved her away.****

**"**Okay," she shrugged. She wandered over to Wynne first to let her know her tent was ready. "Don't break an arm or anything," she called to him over her shoulder.****

"Ha ha," he mock-laughed. As he turned away to gather his tent, he couldn't help the the smile on his face. He loved her company, and was grateful to have it.****

Emma stood next to the fire Wynne had started and warmed her hands. "Nice fire. Are you going to make stew?" she asked the mage eagerly, hunger gleaming in her eyes.****

Wynne chuckled, "you know, I was just thinking about how you and Alistair could eat us out of house and home," she stood and looked at Emma endearingly.****

"It's strange, isn't it, the massive appetite? But I really do feel hungry all of the time," Emma instinctively rubbed her belly, "and you know your stew is amazing, Wynne," the Warden grinned. Her eyes glinted with hope that Wynne would now make stew.****

The elder woman sighed and nodded, "for you, I will." She looked around Emma to see her tent was all set up. "Thank you, for setting up camp for me. You didn't have too."****

Emma shrugged the complement away, "it's the least I can do for all you've done for me." she nodded respectfully to the mage. There was small moment of comprehended silence before Emma slapped her hands at her sides, "well, I'm going to check out the lake to the north. Would you send for me once dinner is ready?" she asked over her shoulder to Wynne as she left the mage to her duties of stew-preparation.****

Before Wynne could answer her Alistair poked out of his newly set up tent, "is dinner ready already?" his excitement at the prospect of eating soon ever apparent in his voice.****

Wynne slapped a hand to her forehead, "yes, I'll send for you, Emma," she smirked at Alistair's hopeless boyishness and began preparing dinner.****

Alistair watched on at Emma shaking her head as she walked off and at Wynne paying him no mind, "what? Is food ready or not?"


	2. Chapter 2

Emma held the strap of her pack over her shoulder, full of the clothes that she wanted to wash, as she walked down the decline to the edge of the lake. She stopped and looked out at the landscape before her. The lake was in the middle of the forest, and it reflected the trees like mirror images in the clear water. The lake somehow held a nice, warm temperature despite being hidden underneath the darkness of the forest. She knelt down and stuck her hand in the water, swishing it back and forth and smiling at the warmth of it on her skin.

"This is perfect," she sighed as she stood and dropped her pack next to a tree close by. She then began to untie the leather straps of her boots.

Alistair carried the four pairs of socks he owned with him as he walked over to Wynne. She was in the middle of making the requested stew. "Ohhh Wynne... have I ever told you how much I love you?" he confessed as he neared her and the ingredients she was cutting.

"Yes Alistair. Every day at dinner," she smirked, continuing to dice up a potato.

"Ah yes," he nodded, "well, I do... but I was actually wondering if I could borrow some of that soap you have?"

Wynne looked up to see Alistair and his bundle of disgusting socks. "Oh my... yes, yes you can. But I've given it to Emma. She went down to the lake to wash some of her clothes as well," Wynne nodded in the direction she saw Emma go.

Alistair was silently happy to spend more time with Emma. "Alright. Thanks Wynne." He bid her farewell and headed off to the lake.

It took him about 15 minutes to get through the woods to the lake. As he cleared some brush and walked onto the stones of the bank he looked up just in time to see Emma pulling her shirt off.

That was the last piece of clothing she was wearing.

He immediately panicked and darted behind a tree. He had clenched his eyes shut and held them shut, afraid to see anymore than he already had. Which was everything.

Emma had sensed a presence approaching and turned, panicked. Her awareness of those with the taint as well was still unreliable.

She immediately jumped behind a tree and covered herself as much as she could. She grabbed her dagger from the sheath in her pants and clutched it tight. She didn't sense it as a darkspawn, but she sensed something familiar about whatever it was in the woods. She decided to call out to it.

"Whose out there?" she pulled her shirt over her head, then quickly stepped into her pants again. "Show yourself or regret it!" she threatened as she swiftly tied her pants in the front.

Alistair knew by the sound of her voice she would sneak up on him and possibly kill him before knowing it was him, so he decided to face her. He held up his hands and kept his eyes closed tight, in case she was still naked.

"I'm sorry! I was coming to wash my socks and Wynne said you had the soap and I _did_ see you naked but it was only for a second and I am really sorry please don't kill me?" he spoke fast and with fear of impalement.

Emma was halfway up the bank when he came out from behind the tree, dirty socks in hand and his eyes clenched shut. She couldn't help but laugh after a moment of seeing how frightened he was.

He opened his eyes to see her clothes had been thrown on, and her sheathing her dagger as she laughed.

"Alistair-" she tried to talk but kept laughing.

"Maker's breath, I was afraid you'd come 'round the tree before I could get away," he let his arms fall as he sighed with relief. He didn't understand why she was laughing so hard, though. "What's so funny?"

Emma looked at him, causing her to laugh more. "You... you looked so scared!" she walked up to him and caught her breath. "Ohhh Maker..." Emma stood up straight and sighed as she stopped laughing. She looked at him and saw him smile shyly. She then remembered he had seen her standing there. Naked.

"Oh... so... did you see...?" she covered herself, even though already clothed, embarrassed as she realized there was no way he didn't see her completely naked.

He felt his face flush red. "Oh, um... I, uh... I did, but I looked away quickly! Because I saw you, and I didn't want to be rude, and of course I didn't know you were naked or else I would have called out first to make sure you weren't naked but I didn't know you were so I didn't call out..." he was gesturing nervously with his dirty socks in hand, trying to back pedal the embarrassing moment.

"No, it's alright," she stopped him from his head exploding. "I mean, I should have said I was going to have a bath as well..."

Alistair shook his head. "No it's my fault. I should have realized you were going to do your wash and that you might have a wash..."

"Ha, I don't think we're going to get out of this smoothly," she looked at him shyly.

He agreed. "Yes... but I am sorry. I really didn't know..." he looked at her, hoping she believed him.

Emma nodded. "I know," she moved some hair behind her ear and looked away. "Well, you can go wash your socks-"

"Nono," Alistair insisted. "Please, go ahead. You were here first. I will wait until you're done."

"Um... okay," she nodded. "I'll be back in a little bit. And I'll bring you the soap."

"Sounds good. I'll see you later," he said.

"Okay," she replied. They both turned and went their separate ways.

As Alistair walked away, he glanced back to see Emma covering her face and shaking her head. He felt horrible. But he noticed her hair was down. As he thought back he realized he never actually noticed how long her hair was. It was a little past her shoulders, and very wavy. She'd always worn it up due to the fighting and all... it was very pretty, he thought to himself.

On his silent trek back to camp, his mind flashed to the image he had of her there, naked by the lake. He closed his eyes and shook his head.

"No Alistair, don't..." he told himself. "Emma is your friend, don't be disrespectful." He pushed the thought away for a second, but came back to it when he recalled how lovely she looked. He couldn't help but want to think of her curves, her legs, her breasts...

"Ahhhh!" he shouted lightly. He again pushed the thought away as he stepped back into camp.

Wynne had heard him, and looked up to see his filthy socks still in hand and an upset look on his face. "Alistair, are you alright?" she asked, concern in her voice. 'Did they fight?' she asked herself.

"Everything is fine," Alistair replied quickly as he disappeared into his tent.

Wynne sat back and watched as the flap to his tent closed. Her brow wrinkled, very curious as to what just transpired between the two wardens.

Emma walked over to the rock where she had laid all her things and paused there.

"He just saw you completely naked," she spoke aloud to herself. "Oh Maker... how embarrassing..." her heart filled with dread. She was worried what he thought about her. Was he repulsed? Did he see the birthmark she hated on her upper thigh?

She covered her face and sighed. This was terrible. How was she going to look at him? He'd seen everything she would have to offer. Physically, that is. How do you keep things normal after that point?

"Ohh," she looked out to the lake and felt her heart pounding in her chest. She thought to herself and spoke aloud, "I suppose it wouldn't be so bad if you weren't enamored with him," she scoffed. "Whyyyy?" Emma looked up to the sky, asking whoever might be listening.

She decided there was nothing she could do about it. She would just act as if nothing had happened. What else could she do? They had important thing's they needed to attend to, and they needed to be together to do them. She nodded as she agreed with herself, then grabbed her clothes to wash them.


	3. Chapter 3

She returned to the camp after she had finished with her clothes. Her hair was over her shoulder and wet, her pack and wet clothes in hand.

Alistair was still hiding in his tent.

Wynne sat by the fire with Leliana. They were talking quietly, warming their hands and stirring the stew every now and again.

"Did you have a nice bathe, Emma?" Leliana smiled to the Warden as she asked.

Emma nodded and smiled back, dropping her pack outside of her tent. "Yes, it was very nice."

Alistair heard Emma's voice and froze in his tent. He didn't know what to do. He had started reading a book they had found with some old magical tales in them to take his mind off of Emma's naked body. It wasn't working, but he was trying. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited to see what Emma was going to do.

"I think I'll take one before we leave in the morning," Leliana spoke. "I like to feel fresh for the day."

"Sounds good," Emma walked over to them to lay her clothes out by the fire to dry. She looked to Alistair's tent. "Is he in there?" she asked quietly, as not to alert him that she was back and frighten him away.

"Yes. He hasn't come out since he came back from the lake," Wynne answered. She wanted to ask more, but felt this moment too awkward to do so.

Emma nodded. "Oh. Okay then," she stood and turned to walk to his tent.

He heard her coming and did all he could to look like he was being normal, even though he knew she couldn't see him through the canvas of his tent. He sat up and held the book in his lap, acting very engrossed in what he was reading.

"Alistair?" Emma called out when she reached the front of his tent.

"Oh, yes?" he answered as nonchalant as he could.

"I'm, done with the soap. You can have your socks a wash now," she offered nicely. She was trying to calm her shaking hand. She was so embarrassed. She kept thinking...

"Oh great. Thank you," he paused, looking for his socks and forgetting he had set them right next to him. He grabbed them quickly and almost flew out of his tent.

Emma was surprised at how suddenly he threw the flap open and stumbled back a bit, a small gasp escaping her. She instinctively clutched the soap to her chest, as if it would protect her.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" he apologized.

"No, it's okay," she spoke. "I was standing too close-"

He interrupted her. "No, I didn't mean to step out so quickly..."

Wynne heard the two and their nervous-sounding speech towards one another. Her curiosity grew ten fold.

They stopped their nervous banter and looked down at one anothers feet.

"Well here you go," Emma handed him the soap.

"Thanks," he took it and gave her a nod.

"You're welcome."

They managed to look into one another's eyes for a brief second, which caused them to immediately turn away and go back to what they were doing. Emma grabbed her hair and twisted the water out of it as she headed into her tent, whilst Alistair said nothing as he broke through the brush and headed towards the lake.

Leliana didn't seem to notice anything odd. She leaned forward and stirred the stew, "This smells delicious, Wynne."

Wynne nodded. She decided silently that this would be a good time to talk to Emma. "Thank you, dear. I need to have a word with Emma, I will be right back," she got up from where she sat.

"Alright," Leliana smiled up at Wynne, going back to the stew as Wynne wandered away.

Wynne approached Emma's tent and calmly asked, "Emma? May I have a word?"

Emma sighed and tried to regain her composure. "Of course. Come in." Emma scooted over to make room for Wynne to sit with her. She pushed some books and her journal she'd pulled out of her pack to the side.

Wynne entered and smiled as she sat down. "Thank you," she gathered her robes up in her hands and rested them in her lap as she settled in. She looked to Emma and asked, "Is everything alright, between you and Alistair?"

Emma dreaded Wynne noticing anything. She didn't want Wynne to think Emma favored him, or for Wynne to think Emma was in love with him because she had more important things to worry about than her girlish dreams and fantasies...

"Of course. Why do you ask?" Emma replied calmly.

"Well... Alistair returned so quickly from the lake right after you had left to go to it. He returned to his tent in silence and never emerged. And, I apologize, but I did notice the two of you having the hardest time looking into one another's faces just now..." Wynne looked to see Emma's eyes flash with fear. Wynne's heart skipped. "I am not here to scold, Emma. I just want to make sure you are both alright."

Emma felt there was nothing she could hide from Wynne. The mage just seemed to know when something was going on, and found no point in trying to make it something it wasn't.

Emma took a breath before speaking. "Alistair walked upon me whilst... I was 'derobed'," she had a hard time saying it. "I was horrified. As was he, I think," a frown appeared on her lips.

Wynne sat back, not expecting to hear that. She assumed they had had an argument, or something to that extent. "Oh... my," she said.

"It was an accident. He said he was coming to wash his socks, which were filthy," Emma cringed as she recalled them, "but he didn't know I was going to have a wash, so he just walked up and saw me standing there..." she sighed and covered her face. "I am mortified, Wynne..."

Wynne reached out a hand and rubbed Emma's arm, comforting her. "Emma, dear. I am sure he looked away quickly, yes?"

"It's not that he saw me that upsets me, really," she admitted. "I... oh Wynne. Please forgive me?" She looked to Wynne with deep sorrow. "I... I am afraid he didn't like what he saw," she shook her head. "It's so stupid I know. I didn't want to fall for him Wynne. He is my friend, and my companion... and the only other Grey Warden in Ferelden." Emma's hands were clenched together. "I need him to help me fight this Blight, that is what this is all about. This whole journey."

Wynne listened on as Emma vented.

"But... something... everything about him makes me feel so wonderful inside," Emma spoke lovingly about Alistair. "He makes me feel safe in all this, at the darkest of times. And he always seems to think of me. He makes me laugh, and treats me with respect, and kindness... he is always looking out for me," she looked at Wynne. Her eyes were tired and filled with emotion. "I didn't mean for this to happen, Wynne," she defended regretfully.

Wynne felt guilty for wanting to talk Emma out of feeling what she obviously just described as love, as she now saw that Emma was already scolding herself for feeling for Alistair. Quite harshly, Wynne thought.

"Oh dear," Wynne squeezed Emma's shoulder. "You are too hard on yourself. I hate to admit, but I was thinking too hard on you myself, I realize now."

"What do you mean?" Emma asked, confused.

"I think he should be the one to tell you this, and I think in time he will. But, I will admit he has had eyes for you for some time now, Emma," Wynne said. "My notice of this had gotten me to think I needed to reiterate the direness of our situation to you, and to him. To put in perspective the strain a relationship between you two could cause," Wynne sighed as she thought on why she came in to talk to Emma in the first place. "I see now that you've already been tortured with your own thoughts of purpose. And I feel guilt. I am sorry, Emma. I believe you have a true connection to him after hearing how you feel about him, and no one should regret that." Wynne looked into Emma's eyes. "I am certain he feels it for you as well."

Emma was a little hurt to think Wynne was going to tell her she thought her feeling's were a bad idea. But knowing that she was thinking the very same thing herself, the pain of it went away. She was now filled with the unavoidable girlish need to know what Wynne knew about Alistair liking her, too.

"There is no need to apologize," Emma couldn't restrain a small smile, "but... how do you know of his feelings?"

Wynne smiled at the sheepishness in Emma's voice. "I know that whenever he thinks no one is looking, his eyes are always to you," she squeezed Emma's shoulder.

Emma couldn't help but smile, "Really?"

"Every chance he gets," Wynne nodded. "It's, endearing, his clumsiness in the matters of the heart," she chuckled. She looked to Emma and saw the happiness in the young woman's smile, but the lack of wisdom of love in her eyes. She tilted her head with a loving smile. "You both are so young... this is most likely your first romance?"

Emma sat up straighter. "You mean... have I ever liked a boy before?"

"Well, yes," Wynne nodded.

"Oh, well... I suppose," Emma shrugged. "There was Ser Gilmore, back in Highever. I had thought on him here and again. He would have been a good husband to whomever would have had him," Emma noted more than complimented. She looked guilty at the memory of his death. "But he won't get that chance now," Emma's eyes flared with a sudden anger.

Wynne noticed and leaned close to calm her, resting a hand on her knee. "He will get what is due him, Emma." Wynne referred to Arl Howe, the man who slaughtered Emma's family.

"I'll make sure of it," she spat.

Wynne felt bad for asking a question that took Emma to memories of the death of her entire family. "Come dear. I am sure dinner is almost ready."

Emma looked to Wynne and felt bad for becoming so angry so suddenly. "I'm sorry, Wynne. I... have a lot of anger that I am still couping with," she stood with Wynne and held the tent open for her. "I am fine."

"No need to apologize," Wynne reassured her. Wynne then remembered Alistair. "Oh, I shall go get Alistair-" Wynne offered but was interrupted by Emma.

"If it's okay, I'll go? I would like to make thing's..." Emma looked nervous. "I... think it's important for him to know what I know. I would not want to hold that to myself. It's not fair," Emma's eye's were intently focused to the ground, then to Wynne.

The mage stopped and looked to Emma proudly. She admired Emma's respect for other's, and her honesty in wanting to let Alistair know she now had an inkling he may have the same feeling's for her that she had for him. It endeared her to Wynne ever more. She smiled as she spoke, "Your respect for other's is a marvel, Emma. You never cease to amaze me with each passing day with the understanding in your head and your heart."

Emma was floored by the huge complement, and stood surprised. In their travels, Emma had come to think Wynne held many answers in the world, and to hear Wynne say she herself had wisdom was remarkable.

"Wynne..." Emma began.

Wynne held up a hand. "I won't let you try to give that compliment back to me. Go get Alistair. And take your time." Wynne turned and walked away before Emma could protest.

Emma smiled. She looked to the woods, then to the sky. It was getting dark. She grabbed her leather vest and pulled it on as she headed out into the woods, to the lake... to Alistair.


	4. Chapter 4

Alistair was waist deep in the lake, scrubbing his mangy socks together with a little soap. He was looking out at the trees, trying not to think about Emma naked.

He looked up into the newly appearing stars in the midnight blue sky. He sighed as he tried to distract himself. "The Grey Warden oath. That's not sexual at all," he said aloud to himself. He looked down at what he was doing, reciting the oath to try and move his mind away from thoughts of her. "In life, vigilance. In war, victory. In death, sacrifice..." he repeated over and over again.

Emma pushed out through the brush and saw Alistair vigorously washing his socks. He was shirtless. Emma gulped.

The taint in Emma was still developing, and Alistair still had a little trouble separating her presence with the presence of a darkspawn. But his relief was replaced with fear as he looked up to see her breaking the brush from the forest.

Why did she come? Did she want to talk to him about what had happened? He scoffed to himself mentally, _'No, she probably wants to yell at you... and punch you in the face,'_ he feared to himself.

"Alistair?" Emma called out to him. "Food is ready," she crossed her arms over her chest to shield herself from a light breeze that chilled her. She shivered and realized he was half naked and wondered if he was cold. "Aren't you cold?"

He felt his socks were clean enough and turned to walk back to shore. "I'm alright. Did you say food was done?" his stomach lurched excitedly as he plodded through the water.

"Yes," she nodded as she watched him walk over to his clothes to put them back on, and to grab his other socks. He'd worn his leathers into the water, which were of course completely soaked. He had to be cold, she convinced herself despite his declination of her inquiry.

"Fantastic," he smiled. "I am starrrrrving."

"Me too," she smiled.

Emma found herself looking intently at the muscles of his chest and arms as he pulled his shirt on over them. He was toned, athletic. And his skin was sun-tanned from all of their walking here and there. She felt a fluttering in her stomach at the sight of him before her.

"Wynne made stew, didn't she?" he smiled as he remembered. Alistair pulled his boots on sloppily as to not keep Emma and the food waiting. "Alright, let's go." He looked to her as he headed up the shore. Each step towards her filled him with intense anxiety...

"Actually... could we talk for a moment?" Emma held up a hand to stop him. "Please?"

Alistair froze. He felt a fear he'd never felt before rise up into his throat. "Oh. Of course," he nodded, halting before her and waiting for her to speak.

He prayed to the Maker she couldn't see his light tremble.

Alistair wanted to blurt out how sorry he was about what had happened earlier. He also wanted to blurt out how much he wanted to be with her, to hold her and kiss her and feel her skin against his and how much he really didn't regret seeing her naked being she was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on...

Emma drew in a breath and looked into his eyes. He had deep, blue eyes. The way he always seemingly looked into her made her feel happy and at peace. She felt him give her the courage to speak the words she wanted to speak.

"Alistair... I, I think I am falling in love with you," she said bluntly.

Alistair felt as though she had punched him in the gut. He looked down into her eyes and immediately began convincing himself he'd heard her wrong. There was no way she had just said what he heard her just say.

_'You've just been thinking about her non-stop since forever ago and you're making things up,'_ he told himself.

But at his bewildered silence she continued, shaking his doubts away like leaves from a branch.

"You make me feel like I can do anything," she nervously rubbed her arms in the chilly night air that was creeping up on them. "Whenever I look at you... you make my heart flip inside my chest. Your smile, your voice... how I've never been treated with such respect, and kindness..."

She felt her confidence grow as Alistair began to smile. "You've stood by me and never faltered in your stance to help me defend our country, our home. And I know you are always honest with me. I see it in your eyes. And I trust you implicitly because I know I can be honest with you as well," she stepped closer to him and felt the heat of his body inviting her in.

He could see that all the feeling's he'd been afraid have for her were hers as well. She felt the same about him.

"And I-" Emma began again but was cut off by Alistair's lips on hers.

_'Oh Maker what are you doing you don't know what you're doing...'_ Alistair frantically thought to himself. He didn't even realize he'd moved in to kiss her...

She froze, as did he. But the feel of his lips on hers... Emma melted into him and wrapped her arms around his neck as she kissed him back.

Alistair let the soap and his socks fall to the ground to wrap his arms around her waist. He lifted her off the ground as he kissed her over and over again. Emma pulled herself up on him and wrapped her legs around his waist, their kiss turning fiercely passionate. It was rough and sloppy, and everything either had wanted for months.

Alistair adjusted his arms to get a better grip on her, squeezing a little to hard...

"OW!" Emma yelped, jumping away from him instinctively to clutch the healing wound at her side.

Alistair's face went white. "Andraste's blood! Are you alright? I'm so sorry!" he looked to her, eyes wide with the horror of hurting her. He reached out and held her arms with gentle concern.

Emma nodded as she looked up at him. "I'm fine," she smiled at the horrified look on his face. "It just jolted me a bit when you squeezed me..." The feel of his hands on her arms filled her with the desire and the need to jump back into his arms and kiss him again, kiss him forever...

"I'm sorry... I, we just..." he tried to apologize, his hands waving about as he spoke.

Emma smiled at his bumbling words and frantic gestures. It gave her the confidence to boldly place a finger on his lips to shoosh him, and to tip-toe up to his lips and kiss them.

He smiled under her kiss and placed a hand on her cheek as he kissed her back. They shared a few more moments of that kiss, making it last for as long as they could.

Alistair pulled away slowly and looked down at her, smoothing some of her hair behind her ear. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life."

"You flatter me," she blushed a bright crimson. His bold compliment made her look away shyly and feel light as air.

As he looked at her, he came to remember he'd never kissed anyone before. His nerves rose as the thought filled his mind.

"Emma?" he asked.

She looked up at him adoringly, "Yes?"

"Um.. this is, really embarrassing... but... I've never kissed anyone before," he admitted. He waited for laughter, heckling, whatever you got when you'd had your first kiss at such a late age. But it didn't come.

Emma laid her hands on his chest and ran them up to his shoulders. She smiled into his eyes. "Alistair... really?"

He saw the disbelief in her eyes and couldn't hide his pride. "You don't believe me?" he asked, half smiling.

She saw the honesty in his face and blinked, lightly surprised. "Oh. I thought you were having me on," she admitted.

Alistair was immensely proud of himself. _'If she couldn't tell, then.. I'm better than I thought, heh,'_ he congratulated himself.

He chuckled. "Well. I fooled you then, did I?" he smirked. He leaned in closer, still smiling. "Good to know." He placed his lips on top of hers once more, softly and lovingly.

Emma closed her eyes and let him further his experience in kissing for a few more moments.

Alistair pulled away, and the two just looked back at the other. They were seeing something they had never expected to find on the long, crazy journey they were on. Love.

"Um... Wynne and Leliana are probably wondering why this is taking so long..." Emma stepped back, reluctantly, and smiled at Alistair, "but I suppose your socks were quite rank with filth."

Alistair watched as Emma picked up the soap and his socks for him. She held them out for him to take. He looked to see that they were actually still quite dirty. "Well I only have four pairs. And we walk a lot," he defended as he took them from her.

"I've five pairs, and they're still a little white," she teased.

Alistair huffed playfully. "Well... I'm just a mangy animal then aren't I?" he pouted as he stormed off towards the forest.

"Aw. I... Alistair," Emma stood, a smile on her face as she watched him stomp away. His shirt was un-tucked and lightly billowed in the breeze, his trousers soaked from the lake and his boot straps flopping as he walked. "It's alright that you're dirty. You're a boy," she called to him as she followed.

"A boy?" he looked back to her, "Well that's just sexist, Emma."

Emma laughed. "Oh my. I never thought I'd see the day where "I" was sexist," she followed him with a happy grin.

Wynne looked up from the fire to see the two of them bustling back into camp, looking happy and joking with one another. She smiled and continued to scoop some stew into a bowl for Leliana.

Emma and Alistair reached the same stride, catching the alluring aroma of stew. Their attention immediately swung to the cauldron hanging over the fire. Wynne grabbed another bowl to fill, noticing the two changing their course from their tents directly to her. To the food.

Alistair and Emma both took seats calmly next to one another. Their eyes were fixed upon Wynne scooping stew into the bowl she had in hand.

Emma united her vest as she leaned forward a bit. "Is that one for me?" she asked.

Wynne nodded as she handed it to Emma, "Yes."

Emma took the bowl and immediately tipped it to her lips to taste it. "Ohhhhhhh by the Maker," a contented smile spread across her lips as she blew on the hot stew and sipped more.

Alistair laid his socks and the soap down next to him on the ground and pouted. "Wynne, don't I get any?"

"Hush now. I am serving you some," she shooshed him as she filled another bowl with the hot stew. She handed it to him and saw that they both were drinking straight from their bowls. "Andraste's blood, you're both heathens!" Wynne scolded. She pulled spoons from her pack and handed each of them one. "Grown and still wild like animals..." she shook her head.

Leliana delicately slurped her soup from her spoon and smiled at the two and how they ravaged their dinner. "They're hungry Wynne," she giggled in their defense.

"They're always hungry," Wynne stated. "Eating salted meat all day, bothering poor Bodahn for bread and drink as we travel," Wynne served herself and sat back.

"You know, we're right here," Alistair pulled the spoon from his mouth for a moment to comment. It was then immediately filled with stew and replaced back into his mouth.

"And obviously no matter what I say you still act like a pack of starving wolves," Wynne well mannered-ly tasted the fruit of her labors. She nodded to herself with approval and took another sip.

Emma tilted the bowl up to finish what was in it. "Ahhh," she sighed happily. She looked to Wynne, who was looking at back at her.

"You're done?" Wynne asked, trying to hide the astonishment in her voice.

"Yes. May I have some more?" Emma asked politely.

"Here can you get me some too Emma, please?" Alistair hurriedly finished his and held his bowl out to Emma.

Wynne nodded as she sighed and continued to eat. "Leave some for Bodahn and Sandal."

"We will," Emma stated. She grabbed the ladle and served Alistair first.

He warmed inside at Emma serving him before her. "Thank you, Emma," Alistair sounded rather proper as he took his bowl back from her.

"You're very welcome Alistair," they thanked one another, a tad obnoxiously to tease Wynne and prove they indeed did have manners.

The mage just rolled her eyes. "Children..." she grumbled to herself.

Emma and Alistair smiled to one another, triumphant in their task to annoy Wynne. They then focused their concentration on the bowls in their hands and emptying them as soon as possible.


	5. Chapter 5

_Alright. It's been a very long time since I've updated this story. I realize I've written in a wonky timeline, and hope those who read this can forgive me a little in that department. I'll clean it up I promise! This chapter is also kind of long. I played with certain breaks in the chapter, but this seemed to make the most sense so I left it. Otherwise, thanks for taking the time to read my story! :D_

* * *

Bodahn and his son Sandal joined the group towards the end of their meal. They talked together of their travels that day, shared a laugh or two. Bodahn had made a point to stick to the same route as the Warden's, for safety and profit's sake.

It was a week and two days journey to Redcliffe from Lothering, where it was rumored that Arl Eamon was ill. They were already most of the way there. They needed to reach him as soon as possible. He was the first ally they had on their list of recruitment, so to speak, in their struggle against the Blight and Loghain's betrayal.

Emma yawned. "Ohhhhh... it's late. Everyone should get some rest," she stood and stretched. "Ow..." she flinched quietly, having pulled to much to the side that harbored her wound.

Wynne looked up, "Are you alright, dear?"

She nodded. "Yes. It's just healed so much already I keep forgetting it's there," she held her side. "It's alright. I just pulled it a bit."

"You need to be careful. It can reopen from the inside, you know," Alistair advised her as he stood as well.

"Really?" she frowned, her eyes slightly widened in fear.

Wynne agreed. "It's true, but you should be fine. I'll have a look at it in the morning."

"Oh. Yikes," Emma didn't realize that and kept a hand over it protectively.

"Why don't you go try and get a few hours sleep? I'll take first watch," Alistair offered to Emma as Wynne and Leliana began gathering themselves up for bed.

"No. I'm not tired," she insisted. "I'll wake you when it's your turn."

Leliana grabbed up her fur mantle and stood. "Good night you two. Wake me for my watch," she waved to everyone as she retreated to her tent.

"Goodnight Leliana," the three spoke intermittently.

Alistair watched as Emma walked to her tent and begin to put her armor back on. He sighed a sad sigh for her.

The Grey Warden's joining ritual was a brutal task to endure. Most initiates had trouble adjusting to the taint that newly flowed through their veins, but it was said that these symptoms were stronger in those who joined during a Blight.

Alistair knew Emma was silently suffering the aclimation. She only spoke to him of her nightmares, but he could sense her troubles ran deeper than that. One thing he, and everyone else noticed, was the lack of sleep she got. She always took first watch, and often stayed up all night, never switching shifts with him or the others.

The nightmares plagued her, giving her no chance at rest. Everyone at one time or another would insist she sleep, but their pleas were always met with protest, Emma stating that even if she went to lie down she wouldn't sleep anyways. She tossed and turned, often waking in a fright. Sometimes she would wake up screaming.

But after their months of travel together everyone would still offer their turn at watch, knowing Emma would not give it.

He watched her lift her chain-mail sheath over her head and pull it down. He checked to see Leliana and Wynne slinking into their tents for the night. Perfect, he thought, as he went to approach Emma.

Emma picked up her breastplate and slipped it on. She looked over and saw Alistair walking her way, the happy look on his face making her smile. As she clipped the latches to her armor, she bit her lip and recalled the feel of his lips pressed to hers. Heat flowed through her veins at the memory. She quivered with excitement at the sight of him nearing her, taking a deep breath through her nose to calm her nerves.

"Hey Emma," Alistair stood with her as she donned her armor.

"Hi Alistair," she replied. She sat on a large rock next to her tent and began buckling her shin guards on.

He looked on as she buckled the leather straps together. As she sat up to grab her other shin guard, Alistair gazed upon her face and felt a strong urge to kiss her overwhelm him. Her lips were so soft, he recalled...

"Uh um..." he stuttered, trying to be a gentleman and not think about her lips. "Um, are, you sure? About taking first watch?" he managed to ask.

Emma nodded. "I'm not tired," she lied, "and, well... you know," she insinuated her trouble with sleep.

"Emma," he knelt down in front of her, "I'm worried for you," he admitted.

She looked to him and saw the concern on his face. She finished with her left shin guard and smiled at him. She rested her hands on her knees and sighed. "I would sleep if I could," she insisted. "Please, don't worry."

"I can't, not," he spoke. He tilted his head as he expressed how he felt. "You, I can't even remember the last time I saw you asleep."

Emma didn't mean to be, but she was becoming frustrated. It wasn't that she didn't want to rest. She was exhausted. But listening to the darkspawn, the archdemon, in her dreams, seeing them... it sent torrents of horror and fear and anger throughout her.

"I would if I could Alistair. You know this." She stood quickly, her anger at the topic expressed in her sudden movement.

Alistair stood as well, sensing he'd upset her. He watched her as she angrily yanked her gloves on. His shoulder's slumped and he ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry Emma. I understand," he looked to her. "I didn't say it to make you upset."

Emma tightened her gloves and kept her angry eyes down at the ground. "I know. It's just..." she lightly threw her hands in the air as she confessed, "I don't know how long I can sustain focus on what's needed of me if I can't upkeep my, my body, my senses," she looked to him. She sighed at the sad look on his face. "Alistair, forgive me. I'm not angry with you."

She was torn on whether or not it was appropriate for her to reach out to touch him. Although she knew he felt the same for her, it was still so new to her. Her anger faded as she thought about the long journey ahead, and that there was nothing she could do except continue fighting with all she had. "I guess I've been alright thus far. I shouldn't worry about something not yet manifested as a problem," she reasoned aloud.

Alistair's heart ached for her. Her duty to the Grey Warden's, to Ferelden, was unshakable. He couldn't help but smile proudly at her.

"What?" she asked at his smile.

"You make me proud," he told her.

Emma flushed lightly. She leaned down and grabbed her axe. "Because I can't sleep?" she joked as she fastened her scabbard with her axe at her back. She wanted to lighten the mood and not feel the sadness and frustration that was with her most of the time now. She wanted to see his smile.

Alistair watched as she fastened the giant axe to herself. "Because you are a good foot shorter than me and have no trouble wielding that beast of a weapon," he motioned her axe.

Emma smiled. She had bent down and was digging around in her pack for something. "Jealous?" she looked up at him mockingly.

He scoffed. "Yeah, right."

Emma pulled out an apple and took a bite as she stood again. She chewed and remembered Alistair had complimented her. What he'd said meant a lot. His opinion was very important to her, and to hear him say he was proud of her filled her with glee.

She swallowed the bite she took and looked to him lovingly. "Thank you, Alistair. For... everything."

He smiled. He didn't know what everything was, but knew it was her attempt at accepting a compliment and left it at that. "You're welcome... where'd you get that apple?" he eyed it, hungrily.

"I picked some from a tree, down the road," she pointed back to the road they were camped adjacent from. "Want one?" she offered as she bit into the apple, holding it in her teeth as she went to grab one for him.

"Mmm. Sure," he smiled. He loved apples.

"Here," she handed him one, then ripped a bite from hers and chewed.

He took a bite from the green apple and smiled as he chewed. "Aw, wow. These are delicious." He took another bite. "Mmm-mmm..."

"I was expecting them to be sour. They're still small," she turned hers in her hand, examining it's size. "But it's quite sweet."

"Yeah. They are small," he noted as he was already halfway done with his.

Emma nodded as she bit into her apple again and chewed. She then turned and walked to post herself at the opening to the road. Alistair followed. Emma noticed and looked to him. "Aren't you tired?" she asked.

"Eh," he shrugged. He honestly was so full emotions rushing throughout his mind and body he couldn't think. He'd kissed her. He couldn't stop thinking about how beautiful she was. He never imagined someone as gorgeous as Emma would ever feign interest in him, let alone feel how he felt about her about him. "My brain isn't," he finished his answer.

"I know what you mean," she nodded. She worried for him though. He could sleep. And snore. "You should try to get some rest. We're only a days journey to Redcliffe," she mentioned.

"I'll sleep when I am ready. Besides, I'd like to keep you company for a while," he stated. He was tearing the last bit of flesh from the apple as he looked to her.

Emma had a few more bites left. She smiled. "I'd like that".

They reached a boulder near the edge of the road and stopped. Alistair finished his apple and tossed the core into the bushes nearby. He happily licked the sticky remnants off his fingers. Emma was chewing as she took a seat on the boulder. She sighed as she looked out into the darkness and chewed. She looked over to the fire still burning bright in the camp. Leliana's lamp was still burning. Wynne's was not.

Morrigan came to mind suddenly. Emma felt something cold rush over her at the thought. She sat up and felt a sensation to look over her shoulder. She turned her head to see two glowing, yellow eyes in the distance, bouncing their way in her direction.

Alistair saw Emma's gaze and had his hand gripped around his sword. He didn't see what she saw, yet. Emma stood and reached back and gripped the handle of her axe as well. She had a feeling she wouldn't need it, but...

Just as suddenly as Emma felt the presence of those eyes they vanished, a woman's form appearing in their place. Emma let go of her axe and tossed her apple to the trees. "Morrigan," she spoke, letting Alistair know what she saw.

Alistair groaned and let go of the hilt of his weapon. "Oh. Great," he turned and took a few paces away.

"Don't sound too disappointed, Alistair," Morrigan curled at him as she stepped into the dim light of the fire that hit them.

Emma stood tall. "I didn't think you would return," she spoke solemnly.

Morrigan sighed. "I..." she began, but was cut off by Emma.

"What happened to you?" Emma asked, concern over-taking her previous apprehensive tone. Emma noticed Morrigan was favoring her left leg, and the blood soaked scarf tied around it.

"I, hate to admit it... especially with him present..." she said angrily and quietly, "...but I've trouble healing my wound. I could venture no further without aid." She looked to Emma with immense pride that was crumbling with every word she spoke. "I sensed your presence near, and I..." Morrigan breathed in and spoke as if it hurt her physically, "-need your assistance."

Emma nodded without hesitation. "Wynne's just to sleep. I'll wake her," Emma looked to Alistair. "Will you keep watch Alistair?"

"Of course," he nodded to her. He avoided any glance to Morrigan, turning away as the two women ventured back into camp.

Morrigan paid him no mind, as well. She followed Emma, limping lightly.

"Wynne?" Emma stopped at the front of Wynne's tent. "I'm sorry to wake you..."

"I am not yet asleep, don't worry dear," Wynne's hand came out from the slit in her tent door and pulled it aside. Wynne was surprised to see Morrigan. "Morrigan?"

"Wynne." Morrigan acknowledged her.

"Morrigan's been hurt. She needs healing, in her leg," Emma motioned Morrigan's wound. "It's bled through. I'm not sure when this occurred?" Emma looked to Morrigan for an answer.

"I 'twas attacked three days ago. It took me two to reach you," Morrigan answered with pride. "I would not have returned were I another reasonable option."

Wynne scowled at Morrigan's pride. "Well I'm honored. Let me dress and I will tend to your wound," Wynne's tent closed.

"Do you have your tent?" Emma offered. "I'll set you up here, in camp."

Morrigan nodded. "I do, but I do not plan on staying."

"Where are you going to go with a hole in your leg?" Emma spoke sternly. "If you want your leg to heal properly, you will need to rest. You will also be at risk, since you have expressed your lack of self defense at the moment. We'll be here to make sure your leg has the time it needs to mend," Emma held out a hand. "I will set up your tent."

Morrigan wanted to argue, but was indeed tired and in pain. She pulled her pack off of her back and handed it to Emma. "Here," Emma took it and headed over to where her own tent was. There was a space next to it, where she would be near enough to assist Morrigan if need be.

Wynne pulled the door of her tent open again. "Come in, Morrigan," Wynne invited.

Alistair looked over from afar. He watched as Emma unsheathed her axe and set it down, beginning to pull tent remnants out of Morrigan's pack. He shook his head. "Crafty wench," he muttered.

Morrigan was a mage, and apostate according to the Chantry. A mage out of the Circle was considered a lost cause, an abomination, and was sentenced to death beyond all reasoning. The templars, what Alistair once trained to be, were the soliders of the Chantry bred and raised to hunt such mages. But Alistair's dislike wasn't rooted only there. The two did not get along. Morrigan felt Alistair a stupid, incapable being and treated him as such. Thusfar, Alistair treated her as an unruly Witch of the Wilds, and garnered her no benefit of the doubt.

Leliana and Wynne seemed fairly indifferent about the mage. Emma felt neither side deserved a voice. In the dire times they were in, even the amusement of their hate of one another ran thin. Emma played no games, and made that very clear.

As she tied rope to the tree sharing her tent, Emma thought of this and sighed to herself. She thought about the peace the camp had shared with Morrigan's leave. She felt guilt at the regret of seeing Morrigan again. It seemed a test she was tired of failing, trying to hold a group together with Morrigan's hostile practicality hindering her spirit.

But she wished Morrigan no ill will, and respected Morrigan's talent's and logic. She would help a once comrade, no matter the trials and tribulations of their relationship. She finished setting up the tent, placing Morrigan's bedroll down for her and setting her pack atop it. She grabbed her axe and walked to Wynne's tent to see how the mending was going.

"How are you, Morrigan?" Emma asked from outside the tent, resting the head of her axe on the ground and leaning lightly on the weapon.

"I... am fine," she answered flatly.

Wynne spoke. "Her femur was fractured. She was able to mend the bone, but it set crooked. And the flesh seems to be infected and will not close. The ointment you used helped, Morrigan. Without it, you may not have a leg as we speak."

Morrigan sighed. "Flesh wounds are normally no task. But, thank you."

Emma sighed, relieved her wound was fixable. "Well I am glad to hear it is mend-able. How long do you think she will need to rest, Wynne?"

"A few days. We will be at the arl's soon. She can have it there with no trouble," Wynne assured.

Morrigan huffed. "I will not make myself present in the company of such."

Emma's jaw tightened. "You will rest until you are healed. You sought our company for assistance. I would take it." She raised her axe and again clasped it to her back as she headed over to Alistair.

Wynne looked up at Morrigan. "I will be honest with you, Morrigan. Mercy is only shown because of her."

"Well if your so disinclined to help, I shant bother you-" Morrigan made a move to leave, but Wynne held her leg.

"Don't be ungrateful!" Wynne spoke angrily. "You selfish girl."

Morrigan looked to Wynne with fire in her eyes.

Emma heard Wynne and sighed a heavy sigh. Morrigan...

"Emma... why are we helping her? She left us of her own accord to 'fend for herself'," Alistair asked as Emma neared.

"Alistair, would you turn away someone with such a wound?" she asked. She clenched her hands into fists as she grew angry with the topic. "I tire of this constant feud," she said coldly.

He was hurt by her words. "Fued? You say it like I am the one who instigates," his voice was even as he spoke.

"I speak against the unwillingness to accept one's plight," she looked to him. "You a templar, she an apostate." Emma looked to him very seriously. "You, yourself, have expressed immense rebelliousness for the Chantry, yet you judge based on the fact she is of no religion?"

"She is a complete and utter bitch, Emma!" he spoke angrily. "She is nothing but, but ungrateful for what's done for other's, even for her! You heard her just now!" he said. He had stepped closer to Emma and demanded her attention with his words. "And yet you oblige this. You welcome it," he challenged.

"I will not let anyone suffer in the time of a Blight, Alistair! I don't care if they are ungrateful!" she yelled back. Alistair had kept his voice down, but Emma had no control over her emotions. To much had transpired for her that day.

Atop her need of rest, her healing wound, the transformations caused by the taint... even the first real hope she'd felt since she survived her joining of knowing Alistair's warmth, it was too much for her to contain. His anger towards her now made the latter fade to a dim glimpse of a hope she still yearned for.

"I don't care if they hate me! Or if they won't return a kind gesture with another!" she glared at him. She looked to see his stance recede. It angered her to see him back down so quickly. "This isn't about how we feel, Alistair. This is about saving people, saving free will and the right as living being's to continue to be!" She stepped forward, her rage growing. "What do you fight for, Alistair? I see you follow, but what do you fight for!"

Alistair had never see Emma angry like this, and never imagined he would ever have made her this angry. But he was being attacked, and he needed to defend what he believed in. He needed to stand up for himself.

"I fight for a future where corruption is no longer acceptable! Where men and woman, elves, dwarves... where we all can unite as one in this world and erase the lines of hatred and biggotry that hold us apart!" he answered.

"And of mages? Where do you stand with them?" she asked. Her voice froze him where he stood. "Are they not people?"

"Of course they are!" he yelled. "I never said-" Alistair went to defend his feeling's towards mages. He held no contempt for them, Templar or no. But Emma interrupted.

"That's just it, Alistair! You never say anything!" she yelled. "You let other's speak for you! You are guided by pre-existing thought! Even now, you step down from me out of fear to lead. Out of fear to hold your own right to be!"

Alistair hated what she was saying to him. But he could not argue. He wanted more than anything too, but he had no words. He stood before her, his rage ever-present. But silent.

Emma turned away from him. "You don't understand the strength you have inside of you. You..." she felt like she wanted to explode into sobs, but would not let herself. She would not be weak when this moment needed her to be stronger than ever. When he may have needed her to be. She was overcome and couldn't speak for a moment.

He looked at the back of her head. Her dark auburn hair falling down her back in a V. It was wavy from drying in the cold that night. He wanted to grab her and make her look at him. Not knowing what she was thinking was making him go mad.

"Emma..." he started. He lifted a hand to touch her, but recoiled. She'd never expressed that she felt this way about him. Not a hint. He didn't understand why, but at the same time didn't want to know why. He was afraid. This enraged him more. He was tired of being afraid of feeling. Afraid of his own damn feelings.

"It's always been my place to be out of sight. I was a mistake," Alistair began.

Emma turned to him, not understanding the meaning behind his words. She yearned to know why he preferred to be so weak when he was indeed bold and strong.

He was relieved to see her amber eyes. She looked to him with faded rage. He was still hurt by her accusations, but wanted to explain himself before he gave her more reason to be upset with him.

"I haven't told you, about my father," he said. He looked at her and sighed. "I didn't know how to bring it up, honestly," he shrugged his shoulders. His anger calmed as logic returned to him, his head clearing from his defensiveness.

"Your father?" Emma asked. She was taken aback. "I didn't know you knew your father?"

"I didn't. I just know _who_he is," he stated. He clasped his hands together nervously. "Arl Eamon raised me. He took me in when my mother died." He turned away from her, realizing he couldn't bear the look of her golden colored eyes bearing into him. "And he did that because... because my father was King Maric."

Emma stood frozen. This was not what she was expecting to hear. "What?" was the only word that would escape her.

"I know... but I was always told that I had no place within the royal family," he explained. He sighed, "I was always out of sight because no one wanted me. So I learned to stay that way." He looked out at the trees surrounding their camp and recalled when Arl Eamon sent him away when he was 10. "When Eamon sent me away, to the Chantry... it was because his wife, Isolde, hated the rumors that I was his son. And she was threatened by my presence. So she had me sent away."

He felt the rage he felt then, a young boy being thrown into the Chantry because he belonged nowhere else. He scoffed. "I've never belonged anywhere. It's been my life to keep out of everything. That's what I am good at," he spat the words. He'd never felt this angry about it before.

Emma's hands were over her mouth. Her fingers were pressed to her lips as her heart cracked beneath her breast. She continued to look to Alistair. His head hung down, his gaze to the ground as he explained what he'd never told her before. Never told anyone before.

"I am sorry, I didn't tell you sooner," he spoke quietly now. "I, was so used to people knowing and it meaning nothing, heh, or everything. Duncan was the only Grey Warden who knew. He kept me out of the fighting because of it," Alistair shook his head.

He heard nothing from her and decided he wanted to face her, to see what she would have to say to him now that his truth was out. He turned and did not expect to see the sorrow on her face. He felt his emotions grow hands and try to reach out of his body to her to comfort her.

"Alistair. I am so sorry," she apologized.

He felt a tinge of anger at her apology. Once she knew he was the orphaned bastard of the king she relented in her words towards him. Even if some of them were true, he thought to himself. The hands of emotion retracted back into his chest.

"So now you know. And now you can think what you like of me." He turned to walk away angrily.

"Alistair," she demanded.

Her voice was strong. It surprised him, stopping him where he stood. He turned to look at her. "What?" he spat.

"Don't be angry with me because I've witnessed what you do," she spoke. "I see nothing but a tremendous warrior and a genuine and moral leader of men when I look at you. And at times, what you put forth is contrary to this man that I see in your eyes," she stepped closer. "When you look at me, Alistair, when you look into my eyes, I see a greatness in you. Why do you hide from it?"

Her voice was kind in her question. She was almost pleading to know why, how, he could not see what she saw. At his continued silence, Emma offered what condolence she felt she could after being so cruel. "You are whoever you want to be, not what anyone has told you to be."

He looked up and into her eyes. No one had ever talked to him like this before. No one ever told him how he mattered, and what he felt mattered. What he wanted, mattered. He loved her so much, he realized. Her glistening eyes filled with regret at hurting his feelings, but her honesty to him was ever present. She thought of him and no one else in that moment, and she loved him. He was washed over with a wave of understanding he'd yearned for for as long as he could remember.

"Emma... I..." he lifted a hand to touch her cheek. It was cold and soft against his fingertips. "I love you," he spoke softly. "I love you so much."

She smiled and placed her gloved hand over his, holding it to her cheek. "I love you, Alistair," she pulled him to her and hugged him tightly. "I am so sorry for my words..."

"Don't be," he held her. "I understand," he pulled her away and looked down at her. "You have always acted in the best interest of others, of myself. I was defensive, I didn't see it as such," he said. "Please do not feel sorrow for me."

Emma shook her head. "I assume before I speak. I need to learn to control my opinions," she admitted. "I do not want to force anyone to do anything."

"And you don't," he said. "You offer what you know. Nothing more. And, you're usually right," he smiled.

Emma shrugged his words away, not wanting to admit anything. "I am not always right."

"Well let's agree to disagree," he held her in his arms and lovingly looked down at her.

She agreed only to avoid upsetting him any further, the guilt weighed in her heart.

He continued to look into her golden eyes. He wished he could be lost in them forever. They way she looked back at him made him feel like he was floating on a cloud, completely at peace. She blinked and tilted her head at his gaze. He smiled, "I've, now, the knowledge that you feel the same for me as I do you... yet I am still afraid to kiss you," he admitted.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," she tip toed up to his lips and kissed him.

With this, he believed her.


	6. Chapter 6

"What's wrong with the pretty lady?" Sandal was sitting up in his bedroll, looking out across the camp.

"Everything's fine now, son. Go ahead and go back to sleep," Bodahn reached over and pat the boy on the shoulder, "come on now."

Sandal looked out a little longer, seeing the embrace between the two and believing his father was right. He turned over onto his other side and returned to sleep.

Wynne, Morrigan and Leliana had heard most of the argument. They'd of course stayed silent.

Wynne could sense Morrigan's discomfort at the over-heard fight, as it stemmed from her arrival. Wynne did agree that Morrigan's temperament was most unpleasant, but also felt the same as Emma in the belief of turning no one in need away in a time such as they were in now. In any time, actually.

Morrigan felt remorse at her past actions. She felt it because Emma had shown her nothing other than a willingness to understand her points of view. At times, Emma did understand and agree. She was sensible, Morrigan complimented silently to herself.

Leliana curled up tighter, feeling horrible for Alistair about some of the thing's Emma had said to him. But she did not feel it her place to judge, as these were thing's he did. She tried to roll over and go to sleep. She would not trouble herself with things that were not her business. Especially when the end result was a lovely confession of both of their feeling's for one another. Her earlier remorse began to fade as she also did, sleep slowly re-taking her.

"Emma?" Alistair asked as he parted from her lips.

"Hmm?"

"Will you please go try to get some sleep?" he urged.

"Ali-" she began but didn't get to finish.

"Just lay down. You don't have to sleep," he pleaded. "You need to rest."

Emma looked and saw his concern for her sharply in his eyes. She conceded. "Alright. Will you come get me when you are off to sleep?" she asked, slightly demanding more than asking.

"I will," he nodded. "Now go," he pushed her away.

She laughed. "Alright, alright!" she turned to go to her tent.

He watched her walk away and sighed. He watched the waist of her armor sway with her hips. She was the definition of beauty, Alistair told himself. Child-bearing hips, he once heard a man sass her with in a tavern. Her glare had shut the man up pretty quick, he recalled with a chuckle. But he didn't disagree...

He thought about how young she was. She had just turned 19 years old a little after he had met her. But she was an old soul. He felt her wise beyond her mere 19 years of walking the planet. He wasn't much older at 20 years old.

He suddenly remembered when he'd asked her about her family. She had told him they were slaughtered by Arl Howe and his men. Arl Howe had been friends with her father, Teryn Bryce Cousland, for many years. They fought together under King Maric, Alistair's father, and helped defeat the Orlesian occupation in Ferelden. Her brother, Fergus, had been out scouting the Korcari Wild's the day before the Battle at Ostagar. Much to Emma's disapproval, Morrigan had convinced Emma to presumed Fergus dead, having heard nothing of him by the time they had reached Lothering. His family had been murdered along with their parent's. He had a wife and son.

She was the last of the Cousland line.

Duncan had been at her home in Highever, talking with her father about recruits for the Grey Warden's and the teryn's move to send men to fight for King Cailin against the darkspawn. Duncan was from Highever, Alistair recalled.

The death of Duncan washed over him. Duncan was the first person to really show they cared for his interests. He saved Alistair from taking his vows and being forever a templar to the Chantry. His heart filled with sorrow at his loss, and at Emma's.

_We will end this Blight. Nothing will get in our way, _Alistair forcefully told himself. He looked to Emma's tent. He would give his all for her to know peace again.

He returned again to the thought of Emma and her family. He tried to imagine her back then. He imagined she was difficult to control. In many noble families, the daughters were taught to be respectful and lady-like. Emma was indeed respectful, but lady-like were not words he would think of immediately when trying to describe her.

He wondered if she was to be married off, like most daughters of nobles. Was she betrothed before all this had happened? Had she been with a man before?

He realized that in all the love for her in his heart, he knew little of her.

_That's not true, _he told himself.

He knew she loved lamb and mashed potatoes. And the color of the sea. She loved to wrestle with Edgar, her mabari. He was lost to her, when she lost her family. She didn't know what became of him. She talked of him fondly. He was imprinted on her when she was 11. She'd begun learning to fight when she was a little girl, her father teaching her. Emma had told him her mother wished she was more of a lady, but never loved her less for it.

She loved her family. He knew that. He knew she missed them dearly.

He also knew, as stupid as they were at times, that his jokes made her smile, and laugh. He knew she could drink him under the table. He knew the curve of her body, and the birthmark on her upper thigh...

Alistair closed his eyes to picture her again at the edge of the lake.

Her skin was firm and fair. She stood at the edge of the lake, muscles tensed as she pulled her shirt up and over her head, reaching to the sky as the muscles in her legs and back flexed in her stretch. He felt guilt and immense excitement at the sight of her. He'd never _really _seen a woman naked before, and thanked the Maker the first one he was to lay eyes on was the epitome of what any man would want.

His skin flushed with warmth at the thought. He opened his eyes and blinked the image away. "Ohh Maker... make me strong..." he asked the air around him.

He'd thought about it before. Having sex. Fairly often. He knew it was rare as a charge of the Chantry, to indulge in such selfish activities. He'd grown up in the Chantry, knowing nothing else but to be a gentleman. He would be nothing else, he thought... but having a beautiful woman like Emma that loved him almost drove him mad with need.

He wanted to share that moment with her. He wanted her to be his first. His last, even. A smile crept across his face as he felt the happiness she brought him inside.

When this was all over, when they could call somewhere home again, maybe she would be with him...

His mind began to go down the road of Emma and him together. He began to imagine a large room, of royal caliber, and a large luxurious bed. A canopy of royal blue and purple hanging all around the top of the bed posts. He imagined her lying amongst the many thick blankets and sheets that covered the king-sized mattress. From a window in the room he imagined the warmth of the sun glistening on her skin. His mind wandered to her gleaming red hair falling around her face and shoulders, to her curves, to her hands caressing his arms, chest, back...

He shuddered as he stood out in the cool night air, thinking private, naughty thoughts.

"Alright. I am finished. Do you need help to your tent?" Wynne asked Morrigan as she wrapped her wound.

Morrigan shook her head. "No. I will be able to get there," she got up and looked down at Wynne. She looked away. "Thank you."

Wynne nodded. "You are welcome."

Morrigan opened the flap to Wynne's tent and saw Emma had set hers up next to her own. She glanced over to see Alistair pacing by the clearing entrance. She turned away quickly and disappeared into her tent.

Emma laid on her bedroll, looking to the ceiling of her tent. She watched as the breeze moved the canvas, rippling it. She sighed. Her body was grateful to be at ease, but her mind was racing with thoughts.

She was afraid of how much she cared for Alistair. He was all she could focus on.

She turned onto her side to face the front of her tent. She closed her eyes an imagined she could see him standing out there, pacing in the cold night air. He was always picking at the callouses on his hands when he was bored. Emma remembered the feel of his hand on her cheek. Her mind then wandered back to when he held her in his arms as they kissed so passionately...

It tore her apart to feel her need of him burning inside of her. His muscles against her body, pressing into her and taking her over...

She sat up and clenched her eyes shut as she covered her face.

_You have to stop this,_ she said to herself mentally. _You need to control your urges._

She sighed and sat up straight. She opened her eyes and watched the firelight flickering on her tent. Emma blinked and felt the lack of sleep ebbing at her eyelids. But she couldn't sleep. She couldn't even lay still, what with all the thoughts of Alistair racing through her mind and body.

She gave up.

She gathered her warm clothes and pulled them on, deciding she didn't want to waste time not being with him, even if it was just to be in close proximity of him. And she wasn't going to sleep anytime soon.

Alistair was lost in his thoughts of her as he turned to see her emerge from her tent. He paused his pacing and cleared his throat.

Emma smiled at him as she looked to see him mid-pace. She felt happy to know she knew he would be pacing with boredom. "Hi," she greeted him as she neared him.

"What are you doing? It's been, not even half of an hour...?" he asked. He didn't want to sound like he wasn't excited to see her, but he worried.

She wanted to be honest with him about how she couldn't stop thinking about him ravaging her over and over again. But she knew he'd never had such an experience before. Neither had she, she frowned to herself. It worried her in the sense of not knowing what to do. Not knowing how to go about having sex with a man... with Alistair. Her skin shivered with excitement at the thought, nonetheless.

She looked into his eyes and sighed.

He looked back at her, curious to her sigh. "What?"

"I..." Emma began, but stopped. She pulled her fur mantle around her tighter and bit her bottom lip in thought. What should she say? She wanted to be with him now, to talk with him. But what about?

_You could tell him you want to rip all of his armor off and have your way with him. He would like that I am sure, _Emma thought sarcastically to herself.

She looked to him again. His eyes were so blue...

"I can't stop thinking about you," she spoke before she realized her mouth was moving. But she didn't regret her words. She looked up at him and smiled at his smile.

"Me either," he replied with a relieved sigh. "I've..." he looked at how fragile she looked to him right then. Her face was so soft and vibrant. Her golden eyes captivated him. He began to feel the immense love he felt for her and it made him want to fall to pieces. "Every time I'm around you I feel like my head is going to explode," he gestured with his hands what his head exploding might look like, "I can't think straight..."

Emma had to laugh a little at how happy that made her, and how funny he was.

"But..." he sighed and looked to her happily. "I can't imagine being without you. Ever," he stated boldly.

Emma felt her heart flutter. "Alistair... I..." she looked for words worthy enough to speak after such a declaration. "I am afraid of how much I need you. But I have never felt anything this wonderful in my entire life. Just, knowing you has made everything in this world worth so much more to fight for."

Alistair ran a hand through his hair as he flushed bright red. "I think we are going to eternally make the other feel completely embarrassed and/or utterly flattered with everything we say..." he looked to her bashfully.

Emma nodded shyly.

His gaze turned more serious as he spoke. "What are we going to do, with this?" he motioned himself and her. "What... how does this work?"

Emma felt a sadness fill her soul at his question. But it was something she longed to discuss with him since earlier that day. "I honestly don't know," she looked to him with solemn, amber eyes. Her duty to Ferelden and all those that lived within it reflected in her eyes, in her thoughts.

"We're all this country has to defend itself against the Blight... I don't even know if that will be enough," she admitted. "But..." she looked away from him for a moment, thinking and feeling all that she felt for him. She looked back up at him. "Do you think it selfish of me... to feel how I do?"

He blinked. He was a little surprised at her question. "Do I think you selfish for having feelings for me?"

"Well... for having feelings... yes, for having feelings for you," she agreed.

He understood what she meant. She was worried that her having these feelings in a time like this was wrong. He thought about if it wasn't him she felt for and she was asking him his opinion. What would he say?

"I..." he looked at her before him. She was a Grey Warden. She never faltered in her duty as one. She always looked out for others, and went out of her way to solve any problem she could for anyone who needed her help. She put the need of others before her own. That was the creed of the Grey Warden's. But she deserved happiness. She deserved to feel love, to have someone love her back.

"Absolutely not," he answered. "You deserve so much more than... well, me," he chuckled at his own expense.

She tilted her head as she reached a hand out to touch the armor of his breastplate. "Alistair..."

"You do," he reiterated. He took her hand in his and held it.

Emma stepped forward, feeling happy to know he didn't think less of her. She squeezed his hand and smiled. "I have no doubts whatsoever that you are horribly wrong."

"Oh really?" he asked coyly.

"Terribly, terribly incorrect," she nodded.

"Hmm. Alright then," he placed a hand on her cheek as he leaned down and kissed her.

Emma wrapped her arm around his torso and pulled him to her as she kissed him back.


	7. Chapter 7

Emma opened her eyes to the sunlight lighting up the top of her tent. She sat up and yawned, stretching her arms up carefully, as not to hurt her healing wound again. As her yawn ended, she realized she was waking up, meaning she'd finally gotten some sleep. A smile stretched across her lips as she exhaled a rested breath.

She looked beside her and saw Alistair fast asleep. Her smile grew slightly as she reached down and gently touched his hairline.

Alistair turned his head away and mumbled as he brought up a hand to scratch where she had touched. He repositioned himself on his back and laid an arm over his eyes, falling immediately back to sleep.

Emma leaned down closer to his face. "Alistair?" she whispered quietly into his ear.

"Uhhnnmmggnn..." he moaned, "wha-mm?" he asked sleepily.

"You're adorable," she smiled, "wake up. It's morning."

"It's not morning," he said. He didn't move.

Emma sighed. "Alistair," she said a little louder. She didn't want anyone in camp to hear her talking to him in her tent. She put a hand on his chest and shook him, "Get up. It's morning now."

"Emma?" he lifted his arm and opened his eyes halfway to see her there, seemingly floating above him. He smiled a sleepy smile. "Hi," he greeted her happily.

"Hi," she smiled lovingly back at him. "You need to get up now. You're in my tent."

Alistair moaned as he yawned at having to get up. He then realized what she said and sat up. He looked to see he was in her bedroll. With her.

"What?" he asked as he looked to her. "Did I.. did we...?" He couldn't finish his question. He looked down to see he was clothed, but he could have gotten dressed...

"Well, I'd hope you would at least remember if we did," she covered her mouth shyly as she giggled.

Alistair looked at her laughing and laughed himself. "I... ha, yeah," he agreed. "Well then. I will assume we did not," he said in a deep, unintentionally sexy manner.

"Hm, no," she shook her head, doing her best to calm her flushed cheeks.

He realized that could have sounded like he didn't want too, or that he was glad that they hadn't. He panicked. "I mean, I don't mean to say that if we had it would have been a bad thing. I just meant... well I had forgotten I had-"

"Alistair it's okay," Emma placed a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down. I know what you meant."

He sighed and rubbed his face. "See. This is what I meant, by head-exploding," he looked at her, defeated. "I can't be normal around you. I, malfunction," he shrugged a shrug of hopelessness.

Emma frowned playfully. "Aw," she rubbed his shoulder gently.

"Don't patronize me," he scoffed, giving her side a tiny pinch.

Emma squeaked, "Don't!" she slapped his shoulder. "Don't tickle me!"

Alistair didn't know she was ticklish. This made him very happy. He grinned evilly, "I didn't know you were ticklish?" he grabbed her un-wounded side and tickled her.

Emma's eyes went wide as she tried not to yell. She grabbed at his hands but couldn't pull them away from her. She glared at him and whispered angrily whilst manically laughing as quietly as possible, "ALISTAIR! Stop it!"

He didn't want to stop, but realized she was trying not to yell and understood not wanting to have the entire camp staring at the two of them curiously over breakfast. He let her go. Reluctantly. "Alright. But only because of the others," he threatened.

Emma frowned, heaving lightly for air. "That's not fair!" she rubbed her side where he had been tickling her.

"It's totally fair. It's the one advantage I have over you now," he gloated.

She glared. "Right," she turned to grab her boots, "you tyrant."

"That's right. I rule with the cruelty of tickling," he boasted.

Emma looked to him, puffing his chest out and looking manly. It made her laugh. "Oh the almighty tickler," her eyes rolled as she started to pull her boots on.

"Hey. If you're going to make fun of me..." he reached out to pinch her side again.

"Okayokay! I'm sorry!" she scooted away, light laughter escaping her. "Alright... geez."

He grabbed her hand gently before she went back to pulling her boots on. He looked at the way her hair fell around her face and shoulders. She was lovely and angelic, with the morning sun shining through the canvas of the tent, illuminating behind her.

She looked at him looking back at her. "What?" she asked curiously.

Alistair smiled and caressed the top of her hand with his thumb. "I love you, Emma," he said whole-heartedly.

Emma smiled. She looked into his crystal blue eyes and knew this was the man made for her. This was the love she day-dreamed of as a little girl; the one she thought would never exist.

"And I love you, Alistair," she leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips.

He laid his hand on her cheek and ran his fingers up into her auburn hair. He pulled her closer to him as he kissed her again.

She laid her hands on his chest and returned the kiss. She ran her hands up onto his shoulder's and down the sides of his arms. She felt the warmth of her need of him begin to flow throughout her veins at the feeling of his soft skin against her fingertips.

Alistair was feeling the same sensation at their kiss. He couldn't think of anything else except her lips on his...

"Emma?" Wynne's voice came from the outside of her tent.

Emma and Alistair both jumped with fright. Emma instinctively reached out and covered Alistair's mouth, to stop him from possibly making any noise. She took a breath and tried to sound tired. "Hm... uh, yeah?" she faked sounding asleep pretty good, she thought.

"I've tried to wake Alistair, but I see that he's not in his tent. Do you know where he might be?" Wynne asked.

"Um... no, I've just woken up," she looked to Alistair, her hand over his mouth and wondering what to tell Wynne. She sat gawking at him, wide-eyed, needing something to say.

Alistair motioned the lake with his hands as he could not speak.

Emma nodded. "He might be at the lake?" she responded to Wynne's question.

"Ahh, you're probably right. I'll go fetch him and some water for breakfast. Don't go back to sleep now," Wynne teased.

Emma and Alistair listened as Wynne's footsteps dissipated into the distance. She let him go and panicked. "What are we going to do?" she asked in a frantic whisper, "you're not at the lake?"

"Shh!" he grabbed her shoulder's and calmed her, "I'll get dressed and go out the back of your tent and just show up back in camp. Wynne doesn't know where I would be at the lake," he let her go to pull his boots on.

Emma nodded, silent. Her heart was racing.

Alistair grabbed his armor and was about to duck under the tent flap. He turned to her and smiled, "This is kind of exciting, isn't it?" he asked with a grin on his face.

Emma was going to tell him he was crazy, but realized she was smiling too. "Heh, yeah."

"Oooh, fun!" he leaned over to kiss her quickly before ducking out of her tent.

She smiled at his kiss and watched him disappear from view. She sighed with happiness. Then reality hit her, and she quickly pulled her boots and got dressed to break down camp, smiling all the while at the rush of it all.


	8. Chapter 8

Emma chewed on a piece of salted meat as she sat in front of the extinguished fire from the night before. She was looking over the map, pondering to herself if they'd make it to Redcliffe Village before nightfall. It was looking to be a close call, but she felt they'd be close enough to the village to be safe enough continuing into the early evening.

She was all packed and ready to go. Wynne, Leliana, Morrigan and Alistair were gathering up the rest of the camp, sunlight just peaking over the mountain tops.

Alistair buckled his belt around his waist. He slid his axe into it's scabbard, then grabbed his shield and hooked it to his armor at his back. He adjusted his breast plate and sighed as he looked around to see if he forgot anything. Finding he had not he then looked to Emma. He smiled at the intent look on her face, and the slow manner with which she chewed. It reminded him of the slow, lazy chewing of an ox, or horse.

He picked up his pack and walked over to her. "Do you think we'll make it before nightfall?" he asked as he stopped a couple feet away from her.

Emma looked up at him and shook her head. She tore another bite of salted meat from the piece she had been munching and chewed. She swallowed before talking. "No. But we'll be close enough to be alright."

"Alright," he nodded.

"We should be fine," Emma reiterated as she bit into the salted meat again, holding it in her teeth as she folded the map up. She shoved it into her pack and stood up to stand next to Alistair. She ripped a chunk from the salted meat and chewed, talking with her mouth full. "Weh've pretteh muh pahst the dehnse areah's of fohrest..." she spoke, her words muffled by chews. "Suh eveh if thur are durhkspahwn," she swallowed, "I don't think we will have much of a problem disposing them."

He nodded. "Yeah," he looked over Emma's shoulder to see Wynne rolling up her bedroll. Leliana was drying her hair from the wash she had in the lake. Morrigan rested near a tree, waiting for everyone to get going. He looked over to the edge of camp to see Bodahn and his son, Sandal, readying their cart for travel.

His eyes came back to Emma's. "Has anyone said anything to you?" he asked quietly, referencing their argument/reconciliation from the night before.

Emma shook her. "No. You?"

He shook his head as well. "Nope."

She bit off another piece of her salted meat, chewed and swallowed. "It's weird, to not... be open about it with them. But then..." she spoke quietly. She looked a little sad for a moment, but quickly went back to practical. "It's best we try to keep the task at hand in focus," she looked up at him, unsure. "Right?"

He sighed a tiny sigh. "Right," he nodded as he spoke. As he looked back at her he realized what she was eating. His brow crinkled. "Is that what you're eating for breakfast?" he asked.

Emma nodded. "Yeah. It's good," she took another bite. She held it out to him as she chewed. "Jooh whant sum?"

Alistair grinned. "Sure," he took it and ripped a piece off for himself. "Your so giving," he handed it back to her as he tossed his piece in his mouth and ate it.

Emma shoved the rest of hers in her mouth and ate it as she leaned down to hoist her pack over her shoulder. She swallowed and gave him a loving smile and said softly, "Only for you."

His stomach fluttered lightly.

"Alright. Let's get going, shall we?" Wynne walked over to the two of them.

Emma turned to see Wynne all ready to go. Leliana was just pulling her pack on as well. "Alright," she looked to Alistair. She asked, "Alistair, will you let Bodahn know we'll be on our way now?"

"Of course," he answered. He slung his pack over his shoulder and turned to give Bodahn Emma's message.

Emma walked over to Morrigan, who began to stand up as Emma approached. "How are you feeling?" she asked as she reached the mage.

Morrigan gave Emma a curt nod. "The pain is drastically decreased, so.. fine."

"Good," Emma picked up Morrigan's pack. "Do you need any help walking?" Emma offered.

"No, I am fine," she looked to Emma courteously. She saw Emma had grabbed her pack. "I can-" was all she was able to say before Emma held up a hand.

"I would like to carry it for you," Emma insisted.

Morrigan once again nodded. She then followed Emma as Emma turned to follow the rest of the group out of the clearing.

Morrigan felt the want to tell Emma she was sorry for the trouble she had caused her. As much as Morrigan believed that her actions were her own and that if Emma let them affect her so it was Emma's own doing, she still felt guilt after hearing how hard Emma defended her against Alistair.

Also hearing Emma and Alistair's obvious feelings for one another coming to a head had made Morrigan realize Emma was very practical in her opinions and beliefs. Even if her true emotions pushed her to put them first, she still put her duty as a Grey Warden first.

She looked forward to watch Emma carrying her pack for her in her right hand. Her armor swayed with her walk, showing a confident stride in her step, Morrigan noted to herself.

She would speak with Emma at the arl's, Morrigan concluded to herself; to express her thanks for all that had been done for her.

Bodhan had given Alistair an apple from the tree Emma had mentioned the night before. He was ripping into it as Wynne approached him.

Wynne was curious to see if everything was alright with him. She, as well as everyone else, had heard the argument he and Emma had had the night before. As she approached she saw the happy look on his face as he chewed his apple. It didn't seem as if Alistair was in any distress, or unhappy in any way. She didn't want to bring up anything if there wasn't a problem, she concluded.

Alistair saw Wynne approach and smiled. "Good morning, Wynne," he bit into his apple again. "Did you sleep well?" he chewed cheerily.

Wynne nodded with a smile. "I did," she had a quick thought to the argument between Emma and him, but brushed it away, "And yourself?"

Alistair thought back to the feeling of Emma's head resting on his shoulder, the feeling of her hand caressing his chest ever so gently as he fell asleep. He recalled the smell of the citrus soap in her hair. It filled his mind with delicious thoughts of Emma...

"I slept very well, thank you," he nodded.

Wynne could see that whatever occurred last night was rectified, and felt no need to worry. "Good."

Alistair saw Morrigan following Emma, and did not realize he was making a face. Wynne noticed it though.

Wynne turned her head to get a glimpse of what she assumed, and was correct, was Alistair giving Morrigan the evil eye. She rested a hand on his arm gently, "Alistair. We have an obligation to help all those in need."

Alistair scoffed as he looked away. "Ungrateful-" he continued to mutter to himself, but brought it down to an inaudible level so Wynne would not hear it.

"I would hope she realizes, now, the extent with which Emma cares for her. For everyone," Wynne added.

Alistair sighed. He looked to Emma and noticed her carrying Morrigan's pack. He shook his head, still annoyed. "Emma gives too much."

Wynne heard the hurt for Emma in his voice. She was touched.

"She does what is asked of her," Wynne reassured him.

Alistair looked to Wynne. "She knows nothing of thanks, of, of congratulations for what she does," he sighed, his arms falling to his sides in defeat. His brow furrowed as he thought longer on it. He sighed angrily.

"I haven't been a Grey Warden much longer than she, and I at least knew of some reward for the sacrifice. I had the king's support, and the support of his men. I had the other Grey Wardens... I had Duncan..." his eyes met Wynne's again. "All she knows of the Grey Wardens is the death of the man who gave her this burden, the pain and suffering of the joining, and me..." Alistair looked almost disgusted with his words.

"She can't sleep because she's plagued with the nightmares and the terrors of the Blight. Of the archdemon!" his voice was filled with anger on Emma's behalf. He was clutching his apple tightly in his hand. "And that, wench of a woman has the gall to treat her with disdain? To disrespect her?"

Wynne was surprised at Alistair's sudden anger. It was an awesome yet distressing thing to witness. She was touched to hear the emotion for Emma in his voice. He obviously felt immensely for her in this difficult time. She admired Alistair's capability to feel so compassionately.

He shook his head as if trying to shake away his thoughts. "I'm sorry, Wynne. I just..." Alistair looked up to see Emma and Morrigan pass them by. Emma caught his eye with hers, smiling at him as she passed. Morrigan's glance stayed ahead as she limped behind Emma out to the road.

Alistair smiled back at Emma, her smile making him forget what he was talking about. He looked to Wynne grinning back at him mischievously. "What?" he asked, confused.

"It's nothing," she gave his arm a motherly squeeze. "Let us go," she turned and began to walk with the others.

He frowned. "What were you smiling at?" he pouted as he asked and followed her.


	9. Chapter 9

_Hooooooo this is a long one. I started this a long time ago, right after I finished my first run-through of the game back when it came out. At points I feel my writing is lacking, but having had written so much so fast, I mostly just re-structured some points and posted. I wanted to see where this could go and if anyone would like it._

_ I realize this story doesn't follow the plotline from DA:O to the T, and I hope that's alright. Embellishments and, well just ideas I wanted to try as add in's to the already lovely story of the game seemed fun to me. I have REALLY appreciated the critically kind reviews. I feared receiving any reviews as I know I am too sensitive (I am super lame I know) but really, it's great. Respectful comments and thoughts are awesome and I welcome them :D_

_But more importantly, thank you for taking the time to read my story. And SUPER thanks and appreciation to those following it. It makes my day! :D!_

* * *

Emma reached forward and hung her and Morrigan's packs on the back of Bodahn's cart. She walked in stride with the cart to rustle through her pack for another apple and some flat bread Bodahn had kindly given her and the others.

She pulled her dagger from her thigh, cutting the apple into thin slices and tossing the core to the side of the road. Catching up to Alistair after sheathing her dagger and tearing the flat bread in half, she wrapped the apple pieces up in the bread and handed the other half to him. Alistair walked beside her, swallowing up the snack in three bites. Emma savored hers, taking small bites and chewing happily.

Morrigan had begun to have difficulty keeping up without Emma's aid, and was now nestled in Bodahn's cart, much to her disapproval. Accepting Emma's urging for her to get in the bloody cart, she currently thumbed through a tome she had procured from a shop they had visited early in their travels together. Her leg was secured amidst Emma and Alistair's warm clothes, to keep it from bouncing all over the place.

Wynne and Leliana chatted casually, of their times in the Circle and the Chantry, learning more about one another. But mostly talked of Emma and Alistair.

"Did you know before?" Leliana asked Wynne, "About how they felt towards one other?"

Wynne nodded, "Only but a night ago did Emma actually speak of it to me. She is pretty good at hiding her feelings but love isn't hard to spot. And as for Alistair, well, I am sure you and anyone else with eyes has noticed he doesn't quite have the aptitude to hide his eyes at her," she chuckled.

Leliana giggled. "Yes. He is very awkward," she looked forward at Emma and Alistair walking side by side. They were talking together, Alistair gesturing with his hands and speaking rather enthusiastically whilst Emma looked to him and she chewed her apple and bread, nodding and agreeing every now and again. It made Leliana smile. "She seems to hang on his words."

"Yes. She's quite enamored with him," Wynne smiled.

The two woman watched on at Emma and Alistair a while longer. Emma was just biting into her food when she suddenly laughed at something Alistair had said. She then pushed him away playfully. Alistair laughed at her shove, catching his balance and moving back to walk next to her. He looked to her with a proud smile, obviously antagonizing her with it. Emma just shook her head at him.

"They are adorable," Leliana concluded. "I have never seen Emma smile this much."

"It's good for them," Wynne agreed, "to take their mind off of the burden they both carry." Leliana agreed.

"I like this," Alistair stated. He cleared his throat, the laughing making it feel a little scratchy.

Emma looked at him, "You like what?" she smirked. "You like making _lude_comments about my armor and how it fits?"

"I was just observing the craftsmanship, that's all," he defended. He smiled at her coyly. "It was finely made to fit you."

"Ah yes. Right," she laughed. She shoved the last piece of apple and bread into her mouth.

"Ha... no. I mean, I like being able to be open with you, now that you know how I feel, and everything," he confessed. "It's like, I can finally be myself."

She smiled. "I feel the same way. It's hard to hide it, when you feel so much for someone... it's really hard," her brow furrowed as she recalled all the times she was uncomfortable with it.

Alistair laughed. "Yeah, tell me about it."

She became curious at how long Alistair had felt how he felt about her. "When did you start to, have feelings, for me?" she asked shyly.

He turned his head and looked forward, thinking about his answer. "Um..." he looked as if he was counting mentally. "I think... pretty much from the first moment I saw you."

"Oh yeah. C'mon," she scoffed, not believing him.

"No. I mean it," he looked back to her. "When I saw you walking over to me that day, I was beyond curious as to what such a... well, attractive, woman was doing in full chain-mail heading in my direction."

Emma shook her head, "No," she denied him aloud but felt giddy inside at the thought of being called attractive. The way he was looking at her made her blush. "You thought I was attractive then?"

Alistair scoffed with a smile. "You really don't know how beautiful you are, do you?"

"What do you mean?" she asked quietly. "I'm not-"

"Okay no," he held up a hand to stop her. "I am _not_going to believe you."

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Emma." He stated her name. "You are..." he was looking for words and had a hard time finding any that would do her justice in his mind.

She looked at him and saw he was thinking. "I'm what?" the corner of her mouth turned up in a smile.

He looked to her and sighed. The look in her eyes, showing him how truly unaware of her beauty she was...

"You are the most radiantly beautiful woman in all of the world," he spoke, "unbridled by anything in existence."

Emma legs almost froze her in place. She was flattered and giddy almost beyond reason at his words. Her eyes met his and she saw that he meant what he said, but had to ask, "Do you really think that?"

Alistair laughed. "You know, I have a hard time believing you've never heard anything like this before," he said.

Emma felt a tinge of embarrassment at his words. Why would anyone tell her how radiant or whatever she was? She recalled a few times when men had told her she had a fine bottom, or a nice pair of jugs. But no one ever really told her she was beautiful, not the way Alistair just did.

He looked to see her smile had gone and realized he may have just pulled another "Alistair move" and scoffed at himself. "No, Emma... I didn't mean it like, you _should_ know you're beautiful... you are, and I mean, well actually you _should_know how beautiful you are because-" he fumbled, becoming flustered and lost in his words.

Emma looked to see her silence had made him think he'd insulted her. "Oh, Alistair, nono," she insisted. "I was just... I was thinking, about something else," she stuttered.

They looked at one another, then smiled.

"What I meant," Emma looked at him with love in her eyes, "is thank you, Alistair. I've never really, felt beautiful, until you."

He almost reached out to put some of her bright red hair behind her ear. "You will always be beautiful to me."

Emma gave him a sweet smile before turning away to blush a deep crimson red.

He moved to tell her he loved her when he felt that familiar and unsettling presence seep into his spine.

Emma felt the uncomfortable, unfamiliar raising of the hair on the back of her neck. She looked to the expression on Alistair's face and it told her all she needed to know.

Alistair yanked his axe from it's scabbard and pulled his shield from his back, sliding his arm through the handles and looking to the trees to their left. Emma instinctively stepped up to Alistair's right, heaving the giant axe at her back out in front of her. She turned to Bodahn and shouted a warning.

"Darkspawn!"

Bodahn stopped the cart and did what Emma had instructed him to do when there were darkspawn: grab shield's and take cover. He grabbed Sandal by the collar and dragged him off the cart with him. Bodahn looked to Morrigan as he climbed down out of the cart, "Give me your hand!" he held his hand out to her.

Morrigan shook her head. She pulled herself up and slid herself to the edge of the cart. "I will not sit by helpless!" she spat at the dwarf.

Alistair looked into the trees, only to at the very last second see a dagger come flying from the darkness between them. He held his shield up over his face to deflect it just in time.

Wynne pulled her pack from her back and tossed it to the side, summoning the elements of water from the air around her for a frost spell. Leliana pulled her bow from her back and sheathed an arrow in seconds, aiming in the direction Alistair and Emma were focused. Morrigan, against Bodahn's pleas, jumped out of the cart and readied her staff to blast the first darkspawn to show itself.

Alistair and Emma saw three hurlocks charge out from between the trees. Emma stepped first and lifted her axe, cleaving the first one to reach her through it's waist. Her axe sliced through it's torso, spilling it's intestines and guts out onto the road. Alistair caught the next one with his shield, jabbing it up into the hurlock's jaw. He heard it crack as it shattered against the shield, causing the darkspawn to sprawl backwards. As it began to stumble to a fall, Alistair ran his axe through its middle, kicking the beast off of the weapon with his foot.

Wynne hurled a ball of ice at the third charging hurlock, Leliana spotting some genlocks amidst the trees and swiftly firing arrows at them.

Emma could see there were at least 8 more darkspawn charging out of the forest. She saw the headdress of an emissary and turned looked over her shoulder, searching for Leliana. "Kill the emissary!" she yelled to her once she was in sight.

Morrigan could see Leliana was at a disadvantage of sight, and she could see the emissary from where she was. She waved her staff as she conjured heat from the air, creating a ball of fire above her head. Leliana began to move in but saw Morrigan and realized Morrigan didn't see the second emissary casting a hex in her direction. She shouted to her to try and catch her attention, "Morrigan! To your right!"

Emma heard Leliana's plea and turned to see Morrigan not in Bodahn's cart. She then saw the second emissary and glared to Morrigan. "Morrigan!"

Morrigan was about to cast her spell when a blast from the second emissary sent her reeling off of her feet and across the road.

"Nooo!" Emma screamed, and turned all her focus on the second emissary.

Alistair watched as Emma descended into the trees, genlocks bearing down on her. He looked back behind him to see Morrigan was alive, and with that confirmation went to trail Emma and take out any genlocks she couldn't.

Emma sliced through three genlocks before she had to duck to avoid a spell from the emissary she had in her sights. She rolled a few feet from where she landed, then rose again to her feet. She looked the beast in the eyes, who regarded her with it's wicked smile as it cast a spell of lightning in her direction. Emma dodged the bolt, but just barely. She caught her balance and without hesitation grabbed the dagger sheathed to her thigh and flung it at the emissary, catching it in the cheek. It fell backwards, dead.

Emma turned to see Alistair pinning a genlock against a tree and running his axe through a hurlock at his right. There were only two left: the one Alistair had pinned, and one hurlock Wynne was currently casting her ice spell upon, freezing it in place. Leliana had managed to get the first emissary in the neck with an arrow, as well as another hurlock.

Emma took a breath as she looked around at the three dead darkspawn she cut down in her pursuit of the second emissary. She could feel the eery presence of the darkspawn ebbing away. It brought a sigh of relief to her lungs. She walked to the dead emissary and yanked her dagger from its face, wiping it's toxic blood on the sleeve of it's armor and re-sheathed it at her thigh.

Alistair had finished the genlock he had pinned with a slice through the neck, not completely severing the head but killing it nonehteless. He walked to the frozen hurlock and and gave it a good slam of his shield, shattering it to pieces.

Emma turned her attention to Morrigan, who was now standing from being knocked back by the emissary's spell. She thanked the Maker she was alright.

Emma looked to Alistair and the shattered hurlock. As relief washed over her at the sight of him she felt a sudden stab of heat in her chest. She looked down to see the twisted blade of a darkspawn longsword jutting out through her breastplate.

Alistair's face went white as he watched one of the fallen hurlocks stab his blade through Emma's chest from behind. It laughed a maniacal laugh before it fell to the ground on it's knees, blood spilling between it's wretched, sharp teeth.

Emma managed to turn and swirl her axe around, slicing the hurlock from shoulder to torso. The hurlock's upper body slid away from it's torso with the sounds of its internal organs slipping and sliding out of the open wounds. As Emma turned away from the dying darkspawn, she, more insistently than on purpose, let the blade of her axe fall and stab into the ground as she leaned on it for support. It fell from her hands as she fell to her knees, then forward, holding herself up with one arm. She held her other hand out under the blade, blood falling in streams into her palm. She felt a sudden weariness at the sight of it and fell onto her side, unconscious.

"NOOO!" Alistair screamed as he ran to her. He turned and yelled for Wynne. "Wynne! Emma's been hurt!" he called to her, panic filling his voice.

He dropped his axe and shield as he knelt down next to her and turned her so she wasn't putting pressure on the blade. The blood from the wound seeped out and down her arm and onto the ground beneath them. "Oh dear Maker no, no nono," he looked down at the sword jutting out of her chest. He wanted to yank it out but didn't know if it would harm her more to do so. He looked to Wynne and screamed for her again. "WYNNE!"

"Move aside!" Wynne gently pulled Alistair away to his feet as she fell to Emma's side. She looked gravely at the sword in Emma's chest, then to Alistair. "Alistair, I need you to pull the blade out when I tell you too, do you understand?" she asked him.

Alistair just stood silent in wide-eyed panic.

"Alistair! Listen to me!" Wynne yelled.

He looked down at her, his hands covered in Emma's blood. He didn't notice he was smearing it into his hair as he buried his hands in it.

"I need you to pull the blade out, I am not strong enough!" she ordered.

Her words finally reached him and nodded, kneeling down next to her. He looked horrified as his hand hovered over the hilt of the sword. Leliana had come with bandages and balms from Wynne's pack.

"Quickly, put the elfroot balm on two bandages, and place them over the wounds on either side as soon as Alistair pulls the blade free, alright? It will help stop the bleeding." Wynne held Emma's face in her hands, trying to wake her from unconsciousness. Leliana coated the bandages and nodded to Wynne when she was done.

Some of Emma's hair had fallen over her face. Alistair reached out and brushed it away gently, calling to her again. "Emma? Can you hear me?" At her stillness, his fear welled higher in his throat. "Wake up!" he called again, his tone insistent.

Her head lolled over to one side as she moaned. She rolled it over again and looked about wildly, coming back into consciousness.

"Emma! Can you hear me?" Wynne asked.

Emma looked to Wynne and blinked. She winced at the pain in her chest, her arms reaching up instinctively to grab at the blade.

"Nono, Emma don't touch it," Wynne warned, holding Emma's hands away.

"Andraste's blood!" Emma exclaimed with a flinch at Wynne grabbing at her hands, bumping the blade accidentally. "What, oh Maker..." she moaned at the sight of the blade in her chest. Alistair was relieved to hear her voice, but still filled with shock at the sight of the sword jutting through her.

"We are going to pull the blade out. You are going to lose a bit of blood, but I will take care of that, alright?" Wynne spoke to her calmly. "Alistair is going to pull the blade out when your ready."

Emma looked to him and had every confidence he could do it best. "Okay. Do it now."

Alistair yanked on the blade, pulling it from her with ease, but not without pain. The sickening slurping sound the blade made as it retracted from her flesh made Alistair's guts churl inside of him. Emma wailed, but quieted herself quickly.

"Pull her armor off and press the bandages to her wounds," Wynne directed.

Alistair un-clasped her breastplate and lifted her as gently as possible to slide it out from under her. Leliana hurriedly placed the coated bandages on each wound and pressed hard, causing Emma to wince and yelp in pain. Alistair took over putting pressure on the wound at her back.

"Damn it that stings!" Emma whined. Her shout had startled Leliana. Emma looked to Leliana apologetically. "I'm sorry, Leliana..."

Leliana shook her head. "Don't be. I was just fearful of hurting you," she smiled at Emma.

Wynne smiled that with such a wound Emma made it sound as if she had a scrap. "The sting will pass, dear," she ran her hand over Emma's forehead, moving the matted hair away from her face for her. "I need the balm to set a moment before I can begin healing."

Emma gave Wynne a look of understanding before looking up at Alistair. She saw the terror in his eyes. He was panicked, his eyes darting to her wound, to his bloody hands, to her ruined breastplate...

As Alistair drug in a deep breath to keep from hyperventilating or passing out, Emma brought her right hand up to the hand holding the bandage to the opening in her back. She could only reach to his forearm, giving it a tender squeeze of reassurance.

He looked down at her, forgetting anyone else was with them, "I've never been this scared in my life, watching you fall..." his voice trailed away as he looked down at Emma.

Emma smiled as more blood trailed across her clavicle. She managed in a quiet voice, "It'll take more than this to keep me from you."

Wynne smiled, her heart warmed at Emma's words. Alistair took his free hand and carefully caressed her cheek. Leliana was bent down in-between him and Wynne, also touched at the affection they displayed.

Emma suddenly turned her head away and coughed violently, a spurt of blood shooting out from her wound onto Wynne's robes. Emma heaved in for air but seemed to be getting none. Her eyes met Wynne's, a glint of worry in them as she tried again to breath air into her lungs. A low gurgling sound emerged from her as she struggled.

Wynne's smile faded immediately. "Her lung is filling with blood, we need to stop the bleeding." She scooted back and stood. "Alistair, can you carry her to the cart?"

Without hesitation, he gently bumped Leliana aside as he took the bandage from her and pressed it down to keep it on the savage hole in Emma's chest. He made sure he kept the bandage to her back as he slid his arms under her shoulders and legs, lifting her effortlessly. Emma felt safe in his arms.

He didn't care if anyone saw or witnessed it. He leaned his head down as he walked with her in his arms to Bodhan's cart and nuzzled and kissed her cheek softly. He brought his lips to her ear, "You'll be fine, I swear it," he looked to her after he spoke.

Emma began to feel weak and out of breath, but gave him her smile. She struggled a small breath as she spoke, "I know."

Morrigan had hobbled over and stopped a few feet away from where they examined Emma, not wanting to be in the way. She watched them as they passed her by to get Emma into the cart. She looked up to the sun to see it was about one in the afternoon. Recalling Emma saying they wouldn't reach Redcliffe until after nightfall, worry began to rise in her stomach. She watched on as the others neared the cart. She was afraid for Emma.

As Alistair laid Emma in the cart she coughed up a sizeable amount of blood. Some of it shot out onto Alistair's breastplate, the rest running down the sides of her mouth and chin. She weakly brought a hand up to wipe her jaw and saw how much blood was there.

Her eyes opened and closed slowly as she spoke, noticing she had gotten some on Alistair. "Oh, that's really gross," she frowned, reaching out to wipe the blood from his armor. She heaved for a breath again, "I'm sorry," she apologized.

Alistair couldn't help but chuckle. "It's quite alright, really," he smiled charmingly down at her. But his light amusement turned to dread as he saw how much blood she was loosing.

Wynne climbed up into the cart next to Emma and looked to Alistair and Leliana, who were looking intently down at Emma. "I'll tend to her wounds. Have Bodahn get the cart ready to go, we need to reach Redcliffe yesterday," Wynne emphasized the urgency.

Alistair looked to Emma once more, who gave him a weak smile back. He jumped down from the cart and assisted Bodahn in getting the oxen pulling the cart calmed and moving.

Morrigan hobbled over to the cart and climbed in. She laid her staff down and took the other side of Emma to assist in the healing.

Wynne looked up at Morrigan, unknowingly showing the fearful doubt in her eyes. Morrigan gave Wynne a confident nod, then focused her gaze to Emma laying before her.

Emma reached up and took Morrigan's arm gently. "Are you alright?" she asked in a raspy whisper, "I saw you-"

Morrigan couldn't hold back her smile at Emma's concern. Emma, even possibly at death's door, found the words for others. For her.

"I am fine. Don't speak," Morrigan issued her order, but Emma knew by the quick glint in the mage's eye she meant thank you as well. Emma laid her head back and closed her eyes, savoring the tiny breath's she was able to take.

Wynne and Morrigan both held their hands over her open wound and began quietly reciting a healing spell that would evaporate all the blood inside her lung that teased at drowning her.

Alistair remembered his axe and shield that he left on the ground near the trees. He didn't care, but knew if they were to be attacked again he'd be at a disadvantage without them. His thoughts swam of how he should have been at her side. He would have been able to dispatch the hurlock easily had he just been there...

Unbeknown-st to anyone else, Leliana had gone back to fetch Alistair's things, as well as Wynne's poultices and bandages and Emma's breastplate.

Bodahn looked back at Wynne and Morrigan, then down at Emma. Seeing all the blood... he shook the vision away and looked out to Alistair. "Get on! We've got to get moving!"

"I've to get my shield!" he called back.

Leliana held it up as she climbed into the back of the cart. "I've got it, Alistair! Get in!"

He smiled a thankful smile to Leliana as he pulled himself into the cart as it started to pull forward. The oxen weren't used to all the weight in the cart, but adjusted their speed accordingly and got up to a hefty trot as Bodahn edged them on with the reins.

There wasn't enough room for Alistair to get any closer to Emma. He leaned over a crate of lyrium potions and watched as tiny streams of white and green light flowed from Wynne and Morrigan's hands into the open wound on Emma's chest.

As he looked over Emma's wound now, it was truly horrific. The darkspawn had twisted the blade, rendering the wound un-closeable. He glanced over at the breastplate she wore, and at the angry hole now in the left of the chest. He felt so helpless. What could he do for her?

Leliana watched his tormented thoughts play across his face and bit her lip. She could feel the extent of his feelings for Emma just by the turmoil in his eyes. She felt for him as he looked upon his love fighting for her life. She reached up a hand and placed it atop his, to comfort him.

Alistair was gazing so intensely to Emma that Leliana's touch startled him.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I just..." Leliana began but realized she had no idea what she could say. He smiled a small smile at her effort and nodded.

Leliana gave a nod in return, the two looking back to Wynne and Morrigan as they worked to stop Emma's bleeding.

Sandal turned in his seat and looked back at the mages. He was silent, but looked to the magic flowing from Wynne and Morrigan, healing Emma. He blinked, then turned back to face forward in his seat again.

Emma coughed, more blood escaping her lips. A small trail ran from the corner of her mouth as she laid her head back and gasped for air. The gurgling in her throat and lungs had come to quiet, the spell evaporating what it could.

"I will begin healing the flesh," Wynne spoke to Morrigan. "Keep the blood from her lung." Wynne then shook out her hands and closed her eyes as she breathed in a deep breath. She began to recite another incantation, this one far more complicated in dialect and seeming to take far more concentration.

They rode on, Bodahn edging the oxen on to reach Redcliffe as soon as possible.


End file.
